Slavery
by Aria6
Summary: Fantasy AU! Shiro has been sold into slavery by his enemies, and bought by Grimmjow to be a sex slave. He is determined to survive, but what will he have to do to make that happen? And who is Grimmjow, really? Grimm/Shiro, Shiro/Grimm. Inspired by ShadowThorne's Snuff fic. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Another story inspired by ShadowThorne, her Snuff fic. But this one is set in a medieval type setting. And despite what you might think at first, Grimmjow is not a bastard. XD He's just… complicated. Enjoy!

Shiro stood proud and tall, lifting his lips in a snarl as he looked over the crowd with burning eyes.

It was evening and time for the slave auctions to start in earnest. Slavery was legal in the Seven Kingdoms, and this was no small slave market. No, this was perhaps the largest in Alundra, the Kingdom closest to his homeland of Zunista. The market was situated in the capital of Aberton, and Shiro had been there before under more auspicious circumstances. He'd never visited the slave market, though. His family didn't approve of the practice and preferred to use freemen for their estates.

Shiro wiggled, trying to loosen the bonds on his wrists. He'd tried dozens of times before and it was as ineffective now as it had always been. Sighing in disgust he gave up and just waited for his turn.

He was going to be sold today. If he'd been told even a month ago that this could be his fate, he would have laughed. But that had been before his families' fued with the Kuchiki clan had turned ugly. He'd been taken in an ambush, not because he was important but because his half-brother Ichigo loved him. It was well known they were close and this would tear the Shiba heirs' heart in two.

_I will survive. I will get back t'my King._ Shiro swore to himself as he was finally dragged onto the auction platform. He didn't make it easy for the guards, kicking and biting, but they were well acquainted with handling unruly slaves. Shiro grunted in pain as he was forced to his knees. Then the auction began.

The price started insultingly low, but it quickly went up. There were multiple bidders at first, but most of them soon dropped out. Shiro squinted at the crowd, trying to make out who was bidding on him. When the price reached a gold, bidding stopped for a moment. Then it went up to a gold and one silver. That was the end and Shiro hissed as he was pulled off the platform.

He was roughly shoved back into his cage. The auction was still ongoing, and it included many lots of slaves. He was one of the few being sold individually, probably because of his non-human appearance. It was almost a candlemark before the auction finally finished up and he got to meet his 'owner.'

He was a bit surprised. Not that his 'owner' was handsome… he was gorgeous, really, with a feral beauty that would make women swoon… but the clear fact that he was non-human. Shiro had no idea what kind of non-human he was, though. He'd never seen blue furry ears before, green eye markings or such an odd looking crest of bone. It almost looked like a crown. Hard blue eyes stared at him and Shiro could not detect even the slightest bit of warmth or sympathy in the cerulean depths.

"You were a bit fucking expensive. You better be worth it, whitey." He growled and Shiro lifted his lip in a silent snarl. The man didn't undo the rope on his wrist, just using it to hook his arms to a rope leash. "C'mon."

"Fuck you!" Shiro wasn't going to give this bastard an inch. He set himself then lashed out with one foot as the stranger closed in on him. He was pretty damned good at hand to hand and he was quick and flexible. But to his shock, the stranger caught his foot with no sign of strain. Blue eyes met his and pain lanced through him as his 'owner' squeezed his foot. Bones grated against each other before he released and Shiro fell on his ass, gasping and holding back whimpers of pain.

"That was the only warning you're going to get." The man said before dragging him out of the cage. "Now, behave." Shiro hissed as he put weight on his foot. But the blue bastard had known exactly how much pressure to use. He could still walk and he was going to be fine, just bruised.

He pretended to be cowed, obedient. It was the toughest thing he'd done in his life. Obedience didn't come easily to him, it never had. But that was the only way he was going to get away from this fucker. And he was the only slave this guy had bought, which made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. What did the bastard want him for? Shiro didn't want to find out.

The moment finally came. A kid darted out from an alley and the blue man's eyes followed the movement. Shiro used the distraction to lash out, his foot impacting the man right on the inside of his right knee. Then he bit him on his left hand and there was a surprised scream before his 'owner' dropped the rope. Shiro sprinted away with everything he had, aware the blue bastard was in hot pursuit. But the river was close. He didn't need his hands to swim and if he could just make it…

It was close, very close, but he didn't make it. Shiro screamed in fury and frustration as a hard, brutal hand encircled his throat. Then he yelped in pain as his face was slammed into some nearby brickwork. Blood trickled down his face and Shiro gasped as the grip on his throat went from firm to choking. He writhed in the stranger's grip but there was nothing he could do to get free. He began to go limp before the hold on his neck was suddenly released. Shiro slid down the wall, gasping raggedly for air. A hard hand gripped him by the nape of his neck and yanked him up.

"You are going to regret that." There was anger in his voice now, rage and a deadly promise. Shiro shook his head, trying to shake off the wooziness. Then he was yanked along again, the rope choking him before he got his footing.

His captor didn't make the same mistake twice. His left hand was bleeding freely but he ignored it, concentrating on his captive. Shiro hissed as he was forced into a dark building. As soon as they were inside he was slammed against a wall and Shiro gasped as his head was bounced against the brick again. That made him too dazed to fight but he tried to struggle anyway as he felt claws shredding his clothing.

"H-Hey!" Fear tied a knot in his stomach as he felt air on his skin. "What're you doin'?" He asked, hoping against hope that this wasn't what it appeared to be. There was a harsh chuckle behind him as shreds of cloth fluttered away and Shiro suddenly noticed something very strange. The slaver's right hand was black, shading to normal skin halfway up his arm, and his fingers held wicked cat claws. But his left hand was completely normal, with very normal fingernails. Those nails dug into his hip but the strength of that grip was merely human.

"Are you a virgin?" Shiro's eyes went wide as the cold question confirmed his worst fears. He tried to kick out, tried to elbow the man but gasped as he got a solid hit in. The stranger's skin felt like hardened steel! His elbow throbbed in pain and he wondered how he'd managed to escape the first time. "...Nevermind. I don't care." A deep growl followed those words and Shiro abruptly stopped moving as fangs pressed against his throat. He was human in most ways, but he still had some instincts from his demonic heritage. And those instincts recognized the threat.

"Don't." He whispered, swallowing and feeling his adam's apple grating a bit along those sharp teeth, raising tiny spots of blood on his white skin. "Please." His life was in the other man's hands. If he died now, it would kill Ichigo. Shiro couldn't allow that to happen. There was a brief squeeze of fangs, a bit more blood and then the other man released him. Shiro shuddered as he felt a rasping tongue on his neck, cleaning the blood away.

"I am going to fuck you." That promise made his blood run cold and Shiro flinched away, revulsion filling him as he heard the clink of a belt. "Fight me and I'll rip your throat out." That threat suddenly ignited his anger. Shiro knew it was illogical, knew he was defeating his own purpose, but he just couldn't help it. He suddenly struck out at the man's left arm, intending to draw his sharp claws over pale flesh. He yelped in pain as his wrists were caught, the heavy rope digging into them painfully. "Stupid…" There was a vicious snarl in his ear.

That was all the warning the pale man hand before his body was violated. He screamed in pain as his rectum was torn open, taken in a way he could never have imagined. The pain was nearly unbearable and tears filled his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Shiro bit his lip until it bled, feeling the thrusts and the heavy weight on his back, the animal-like snarls of the blue man behind him.

But the ending was weird. Not that Shiro was an expert on rape, but he knew the man behind him hadn't climaxed when he pulled away, removing his too-large length. Shiro whimpered softly, sure it wasn't over. He was shocked when the man gripped him by the scruff of his neck, tossing him aside before doing up his pants. Shiro landed in a heap, gasping and looking up in confusion.

"Ya didn't…" He said in bafflement then cringed back as the man gave him a feral, vicious grin.

"You want me to?" He asked and Shiro almost cringed again before feeling a bolt of rage. Pulling white lips back from his teeth he gave a low, rumbling sound of threat. The blue bastard just gave him an unimpressed look before grabbing the rope and dragging him up, slinging him over his shoulder. Shiro would have fought but his ass felt like it was on fire and his legs were like wet noodles. And the man had put him on his right shoulder, not his left. Shiro had no doubt that if he tried to bite, he would find more strangely hard skin.

The stranger carried him into the back. Shiro was vaguely aware of cages, stalls that had once been used for pigs and had been reworked for slaves. Then he was tossed into one of the stalls. The rope was sliced away and Shiro barely had the strength to crawl to his miserable little cot before falling into unconsciousness.

* * *

The next week was something out of a nightmare.

Shiro quickly realized he'd been bought to serve in a whorehouse. He wasn't sure – he hadn't seen the rooms for the customers – but he had a feeling it was an expensive sort of place. The slaves were all lovely or exotic, or both. To one side of him was a very delicate young man with strange purple eyes, and on the other side was a pretty girl with black hair in pigtails and a permanent pout on her face. She was good at pasting on a smile whenever the blue man got near her, though.

Grimmjow. His name was Grimmjow. Shiro knew that from listening to him talk to the other slaves. His two cellmates wanted nothing to do with him, as if his defiance could be contagious. They were both good little suckups to their owner but Shiro had decided he just couldn't do it. He needed to stay alive for Ichigo but he was damned if he would let strangers ride him. Just the thought made him sick.

Grimmjow was trying to break him. Shiro shivered as he remembered all the times he'd been taken since that first time. He hated it, hated the pain and also hated the way Grimmjow did it. Shiro was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with him. Once in a while he came, but most of the time he pulled out when he was still hard and unsatisfied. It was like his dick was a tool, something he used to cause pain and nothing more. To Shiro's way of thinking, that was just completely screwed up. Who could enjoy something like that?

Shiro looked up at the sound of a door opening. This place had a set routine, and it was time for their first meal of the day. He was awake early and most of the other slaves were just stirring. Grimmjow brought out the food on a cart, pulled behind him, and slipped the bowls through a small opening at the bottom of the bars. It was oat porridge, extremely cheap but filling and Shiro took his with a wary snarl. Grimmjow just ignored him and went on to the next cell, distributing the breakfast. There were soft murmurs as he spoke to a few of the slaves, but Shiro didn't listen. It was nothing but picayune garbage anyway.

Finishing his bowl he shoved it back out through the flap. If he tried to keep it Grimmjow would come in to get it, and he would be punished. It wasn't worth it for a bowl. They weren't given any utensils, which could have been made into a real weapon. Their food never contained any bones, either. Shiro had never been to prison before but he was clever, and a sharpened bone had occurred to him. Apparently, Grimmjow had already thought of that.

Shiro felt his stomach clench as the big man stopped by the door to his cell. He looked up and met cold blue eyes defiantly. There was a pause as Grimmjow seemed to study him then began opening the door.

"You don't deserve it but this room is supposed to be reserved for new entries, and you're not exactly new anymore." He said grudgingly and Shiro frowned. Don't deserve it? "I'm moving you to a bigger cell." Shiro's frown deepened for a moment. He had noticed that his cell was the tiniest of the lot, probably meant for young animals. "Now, are you going to make this difficult?" Grimmjow's tone was level but there was a dark undertone. Shiro swallowed before coming to a decision.

"No." He muttered. It wasn't worth it. Even though he hated this bastard with every fibre of his being and wanted to see him dead and bleeding at his feet, it wasn't worth it. Not when he was just being moved from one cell to another. And Shiro knew what his chances of defeating Grimmjow were. That left arm was a huge weakness but the blue man was aware of it. He guarded it carefully. It had been a miracle that Shiro had managed to bite it even once. He still wondered why there was such a marked difference. What had happened to that arm, to make it so… normal? It was clear to him that Grimmjow's right arm was the one that belonged to the rest of him, with his catlike features.

He walked in front of the big man, refusing to look at him as he went to his new cell. It was furnished a bit better than his old one. The cot had a few extra blankets and there was, weirdly, a stuffed toy in the corner. He picked it up, studying it a moment. It was a stuffed rabbit.

"It belonged to the last girl to live there." He looked up at that soft voice, a bit surprised that another slave would speak to him. It was the woman in the cell beside his and she gave him a small, understanding smile. "She died." There was no sadness in her voice, just a calm statement of fact. Shiro swallowed and put the toy down before turning to look at her.

"Who're you?" He asked, trying to get a look at her. It wasn't easy, the lights in here were lanterns and rather dim. Then his eyes widened as he realized she wasn't human at all. She was an elf.

He'd known elves, of course. Young elves felt the need to wander and they had often passed through the kingdom. Once, his family had kept an elven bard all winter long, paying him handsomely and listening to his glorious music. He'd left with the spring, but Shiro had always remembered him.

That man had been handsome, but this woman was gorgeous beyond words. Her face was fine boned and lovely, framed by flowing green curls. Her brown eyes were calm and peaceful and somehow, they seemed to invite him to share that feeling with her. She was slowly knitting, her fingers flicking the needles together. Shiro blinked as he suddenly realized those knitting needles could make excellent weapons.

"You can't have one of my needles." She said calmly and Shiro flushed, mentally smacking himself for being so transparent. "You would only get in trouble and then my needles would be taken away. I would hate it if I couldn't knit."

"Uh, right." He muttered, resolving to steal one if he could. "Who are you?" He asked and the elf woman paused to count her stitches.

"I'm Nelliel. But please, call me Nel." She said and Shiro nodded. "And you are?"

"Shiro." He said shortly before glancing at the stuffed rabbit again. "…How did she die?" He probably didn't want to know. It was probably something grotesque.

"She was sick." He blinked at that reply, but he supposed it did make sense. In fact, whores would be more prone to get sick than most people. "Not something from sex. We have charms against that, and when something gets through Grimmjow has it treated." Her voice had a slightly odd note when she mentioned the blue man and Shiro frowned at her. "It was a growth in her belly. When it was clear she was dying and in pain, he did what needed to be done."

"…Uh." Shiro grunted, feeling ambivalent. Grimmjow had murdered that girl in cold blood, but he knew about those growths. One of the servants had had one when he was a kid and they'd finally given him an overdose of laudanum when the pain became too much. "Whatever. I'll get out of here." He said under his breath. But apparently, not quietly enough. Nel laughed, a soft, rippling sound.

"Kitten is too clever for that." She said and Shiro blinked at her. Kitten? "He's very good, very capable. Poor kitten." Nel sounded very sad for a moment and Shiro could only stare at her. Poor kitten? Grimmjow? He suddenly wondered if she was funny in the head. She was an elf, she could have been a slave for decades, even centuries. More than long enough to crack her mind. "But I can see you will have to learn the hard way. Some people are like that… I just hope it isn't too hard on you, and him."

"Yeah, whatever." Shiro shook his head before settling down on his new cot with a small hiss. Grimmjow had given him a hard riding yesterday, trying to 'train' him. He would never be trained.

He had his pride.


	2. Submission

Shiro whimpered in pain as he lay in his cot.

Grimmjow had taken him out again, and he'd been brutal. The big man had seemed frustrated and he'd left a huge number of ugly bruises on his pale skin. At that, Shiro knew he'd been holding back. His right arm had an inhuman strength and he could easily have crushed bones.

"Oh dear. Shiro, please come here." Shiro looked up with a frown at Nel's voice. The beautiful elf was beside the bars on her side. "I have some small magics. I can heal you." Shiro blinked at that. She'd never offered him that before, but he'd never been hurt this badly either. He moved to the edge of the cage and let her hands rove over his body.

There was nothing sexual in that touch, and her hands left behind a cool brush of magic that smelled like trees and freshly turned earth. For a moment, Shiro felt a burning hatred towards Grimmjow. This elven woman should be running through the trees, living with her people in the forests. She didn't belong here, in a nasty cell, treated like a whore.

"You shouldn't hate kitten." Her voice was soft and sad and Shiro blinked. But she'd probably read that from his face, and who else could he be hating? Black and gold eyes met green and he saw a deep sorrow in them. "He is just another slave here."

"What?" Shiro said, surprised. "…I don' believe you." Perhaps Grimmjow had deceived her. Nel just pulled her hand away with a sad smile and shook her head.

"Believing or not believing does not change the truth." Was all she said and Shiro scowled as she left the bars of the cell. Then he glanced towards his other cellmate.

Starrk was as inhuman as Nel, although it had taken him much longer to realize it. The man spent all of his time sleeping, so it was no wonder Shiro hadn't got much of a look at him. And it wasn't obvious even then. Starrk was a loup-garou, a powerful shape shifter who could take the form of either a full wolf or a hybrid, half human shape. Apparently that body had some fans and he rarely got a day off from his duties. Shiro couldn't understand what he was doing here. With the power of a loup garou he should have no problems escaping. Why didn't he do it?

"Starrk. Is she telling the truth? Is Grimmjow a slave?" Shiro asked. He couldn't see that either. The big man was so powerful, not just physically but magically. Shiro could sometimes sense magic and a few times when he'd been raped, he'd sensed it clinging to Grimmjow like a shroud. It had tasted of earth and a catlike musk. Starrk grunted before rolling over in his cot.

"Oh yes." Came the sleepy reply and Shiro frowned, uncertain if he should believe him. "Retired gladiator, just like me." Shiro stared at that.

Every capital city had its own Coliseum. Shiro had only gone to see the games once, when Ichigo had been invited by a very powerful ally. Refusing would have been undiplomatic so despite his distaste for the event, they had gone. Shiro was a bit ashamed to admit how much he'd enjoyed it. There had been tons of bloodshed, which had been exciting, but what he'd really loved had been the skill involved. There had been amazing feats of daring and skill in those sands. A few of the gladiators were free but most of them were slaves. And because of the powers involved…

"You're geas bound, ain't ya?" He asked and Starrk just held up his hand. There was a gothic one tattoo there. "What's that?"

"The physical binding of the geas." Starrk yawned, his fangs catching the light of the lanterns. "Grimmjow has one too. You might have seen it." He said sleepily and Shiro shook his head. He'd never looked that closely at the other man. "We're all owned by Aizen-sama."

"…Dunno if I believe you." Shiro muttered. Although it did explain what a loup garou was doing here. Although… "Why ain't you still fightin' in the sands?" He asked and Starrk chuckled softly.

"Getting old." He explained and Shiro blinked. Starrk didn't look old to him at all. "We only live a little longer than humans. I almost died my last bout, so Aizen decided I'd be more valuable here." The wolf shifted in his cot. "It's not that bad. I just wish I could sleep more."

"Ya don't do anythin' but sleep!" Shiro retorted and the cellmate on Starrk's other side, a girl named Lilynette, laughed. He looked over to see her clinging to the bars.

"Yeah, he's right! Lazy bastard. Sleep, eat, fuck, that's all you ever do!" She gave him a magnificent sneer and Starrk sighed.

"Oh, let me sleep…" The wolf went back into his usual coma and Shiro lay back down on his cot. He had a lot to think about. Although really, it didn't make a huge difference.

Grimmjow was still his rapist, even if he was just a slave.

* * *

Shiro had thought it made no difference that Grimmjow was a slave, but the events that occurred two days later put that belief to the test.

The whorehouse had set routines. Grimmjow brought them meals at the same time every day, and those meals were cheap but filling. He also took out the slaves during the day, usually in groups of three. That had confused Shiro for a while but Nel had quietly explained that Grimmjow was making sure they got their daily ration of sunlight. The blue man believed that unless you were a dark elf, fifteen minutes of sunlight a day was mandatory for good health. The single drow in the place got to spend a bit of time under the stars instead, although it probably didn't make much difference for him.

Shiro himself didn't get to see the sun. Grimmjow was afraid he'd attempt to escape, which was certainly true. The big man was waiting until he was better behaved to give him the privileges the others enjoyed. That made Shiro snarl. He was not going to let the blue bastard train him like a beast!

But things were wrong. Their breakfast meal hadn't come, and everyone was on edge. There were soft whispers and Shiro could tell it had something to do with him. Nel had given him a pitying look before going back to her knitting while Starrk had mumbled something about obstinate fools before going back to sleep.

"Well hello there Shiro-chan!" Shiro's head jerked up at the unfamiliar voice and he stared at the fox faced young man on the other side of the bars of his cell. He hadn't heard the door open, hadn't heard the man walking through the cells. Even when Grimmjow tried to move quietly so not to disturb the sleeping slaves, he made more noise than that. "So you're the one who's been giving our Grimm-kitty such a hard time, hmm?" The man never opened his eyes but Shiro felt like he was being examined thoroughly. "So pretty, I can see why he's keeping you. Nice hair." Shiro growled at that. His hair was growing out at a good pace, just brushing his shoulders. Grimmjow didn't want to cut it and he was never given anything sharp enough to do the job. He wasn't even given a comb, unlike the others. Grimmjow brushed his hair personally. "Well, time to go for a walk." He said in a sing song tone as he unlocked the door. Excitement surged through him and Shiro took the opportunity, lunging forward –

The next few minutes were full of blinding pain. Shiro was only a teenager and while he'd been well trained to fight with a sword and his fists, he wasn't experienced. The last thing he'd expected was a few sharp blows followed by fingers digging into him in ways that made him writhe in agony. It didn't last long but it felt like forever before the man yanked him up and placed a knife against his throat.

"Now now, Shiro-chan. Grimm-kitty might have a weakness for you but we don't. One wrong move and I'll slit your throat." Shiro shivered at the light, happy tone the other man was using. He had no doubt at all he would be willing to cut his throat. "Now, get moving. The party is waiting to begin." The knife vanished but Shiro was sure it could be back in a flash. Taking a deep breath, he began walking.

The fox faced man forced him to go down into the basement. Shiro had never been there before, and at first it wasn't too intimidating. A bunch of barrels, probably full of the beer they were served with supper and wine bottles for the customers. Large racks that held bottles upon bottles of preserved vegetables and big bags of grains and beans. Completely normal, until the man ushered him into a side room.

Shiro swallowed hard as he glanced around the room. He'd never seen one before but he had no trouble recognizing a torture chamber. There were chains in the centre of the room, and leather hanging from them. It appeared to be a harness of some kind; probably adjustable so different parts of the body could be accessed.

"That ain't for you." The man behind him whispered and Shiro couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. "You go right over here." The knife pricked him and Shiro started moving towards the shackles on the wall. The man chained him up with his back to the wall so he could see what was happening in the centre of the room. That didn't make him feel much better.

It got worse when Grimmjow came in. Shiro met his eyes and shivered at the molten rage in those blue orbs. But then the big man knelt and the man behind him ran a hand through long blue hair before smiling and patting him on the head. Grimmjow pulled his lips away from one canine in a half-snarl but did nothing else as the stranger stepped past him to examine Shiro.

The man in front of him looked like a kindly man. His brown hair was gently tousled and he wore glasses, which softened the lines of his face. He looked young but Shiro could tell that was fakery. He'd been around the rich and powerful all of his life and he knew the signs of someone who was extending their life and youth with powerful magic. Of course, such extensions could only go so far. The oldest he'd ever heard anyone make was almost three hundred. He couldn't tell how old this man was but he knew he was older than he looked and a powerful wizard, to boot.

"So you're the one who has fascinated my Sexta." His voice was warm and almost hypnotic. Shiro blinked hard, trying to keep his mind focused. Then he scowled as hands gripped his chin, tilting his head so the stranger could get a better look at him. He would have tried to bite but the grip was like iron. "A demon hybrid. He is as beautiful as you said, Grimmjow. Still… I cannot approve of how long it's taking you to break him into obedience." The man let him go and Shiro shivered, feeling like his skin was dirtied just by his touch.

"He'll be worth it, Aizen-sama." Grimmjow's voice was hoarse and Shiro blinked at the honorific. If Nel and Starrk were right about Grimmjow's position, this was their real owner. Aizen made a small hmm noise but didn't seem convinced.

"At the moment he is nothing but a waste of time and resources." Aizen gestured and Grimmjow rose to his feet. Then he stepped towards the centre of the room and Shiro read reluctance in every line of his body. His eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. He'd seen a geas in use before, a couple times, and there was no mistaking the struggles of someone fighting that kind of magic. Aizen said nothing, just watching his slave with a small, amused smile.

Grimmjow managed to slow his body to a crawl, but he couldn't stop himself. He began buckling himself into the leather rig. But Aizen finally became impatient with his glacial pace and made a hand gesture. The fox faced man stepped forward, humming happily as he finished putting Grimmjow into the restraints. They held him upright for now, his arms caught in front of him. His back was free of any leather, ready for their punishment.

Shiro watched as the fox faced man picked up a cat o' nine tails and lovingly stroked the cords. He seemed to sense the half-demon watching and grinned, lifting the weapon so Shiro could see the hilt. It was deeply engraven with mystical symbols and Shiro realized, to his surprise, that it was highly enchanted. Who could afford to waste such a thing on an instrument of torture?

A powerful wizard, of course. Shiro was reminded of that as Aizen began to murmur something and he snarled as he felt the magic settling over him. He tried to resist it, but his vestigial power was nothing compared to the trained might of this man. It stole over him like a choking shroud and Shiro gasped as Aizen spoke in his ear.

"Watch and learn." That was a command and Shiro found he could not move his gaze away from Grimmjow. He could still blink, thankfully. Then Gin brought down the cat on the blue man's back.

It almost seemed to bounce away. Grimmjow grunted but showed no other reaction and Shiro blinked, surprised. How strong did his skin have to be to resist a blow from that weapon? Gin was undeterred and continued the lashing. It took five hits from the cat to finally break through pale skin. Blood welled and Shiro could see Grimmjow gritting his teeth at the pain.

It only got worse from there. Shiro wished he could look away, but he was forced by Aizen's magic to watch every moment of the torture. Grimmjow healed quickly but that only made it worse for him, because Gin could continue long past the point that any normal man would have died. White vertebrae were showing when he lowered the whip, panting slightly from the exertions. He glanced at Aizen who nodded and Gin got a rag and began cleaning off the cat o' nine tails, lovingly stroking a bit of oil into the leather.

"I think that will be sufficient for now." Aizen said after examining the wreckage of Grimmjow's back for a moment. "I'll give you one week to get this boy under the customers, Grimmjow. If you fail I'll bring Yammy for your next chastisement and give him the boy, too." Grimmjow lifted his head and Shiro could see that the burning hate was shaded with fear. He swallowed, wondering who Yammy was and what he would do to them. He probably didn't want to know. "Gin, give him a more lasting reminder of my displeasure."

"Of course, Aizen-sama." The fox faced man seemed delighted at the prospect. He unbuckled Grimmjow and Aizen made him kneel. Then he gripped the man's left arm, setting his knee against it. The wet snap of bone breaking made Shiro flinch and Grimmjow utter a short, guttural sound of pain. Gin giggled as he released his arm, letting the blue man collapse on the floor. Shiro wasn't surprised to see that while the skin was still missing, the muscle of Grimmjow's back was healing rapidly. Soon it would be hard to tell he'd been punished at all… except for the arm. Shiro wasn't sure why, but he was sure that wouldn't be healing swiftly.

"Help your overseer to his quarters." Aizen ordered him and Shiro felt the compulsion to obey. Gin unhooked him from the wall and he went to Grimmjow, taking his right arm and putting it over his shoulders. The man was heavy, no surprise really. But despite the agony he had to be in, Grimmjow managed to walk, his head down and his long blue hair shading his face. Gin and Aizen both left the room through the other door as Shiro took Grimmjow back the way he'd come.

"Where…?" He asked as he helped the blue man up the steps. He had no idea what room was Grimmjow's. He was fairly certain the 'training' room wasn't it. There were no personal effects there, nothing to make it looked lived in. Grimmjow panted harshly for a moment before answering.

"Right…" They went to the right and after several directions, arrived at a door. When Shiro opened it he found Gin was waiting for them, along with Nel. The fox faced man gave him a sunny smile as he helped Grimmjow to the bed. He wanted to look around the room but he didn't get a chance before Gin had a knife at his throat again.

"No escaping for you, we both know you'd try it." He said happily and Shiro wanted to spit on him. He held back, that knife was very sharp and Aizen didn't value him at all. "Time to go back to your cell."

"Yeah, right." Shiro spared Grimmjow one glance and saw that Nel was setting the bone with her hands and strength. Grimmjow was managing to hold still despite the pain, biting down on a pillow to muffle any sounds. His mind swirling, he let Gin take him back to his cell. There was no opportunity to escape here.

Feeling sick and cold, he sat on his cot and wondered what he would do. Aizen had told Grimmjow to get him under the customers in a week, or kill him. And he was sure the blue man would obey. He would have, if he'd been in the other mans' place. Why should Grimmjow take torture for him? That meant he had a decision to make and Shiro felt paralyzed by it. He didn't want to be anyone's bitch, but he couldn't die. It would kill Ichigo if he died.

The King needed his Horse.

* * *

Things went somewhat back to normal the next day.

Only somewhat. Starrk was let out of his cell to help Grimmjow, and Nel quietly explained why. Grimmjow had one slave to help him with his duties, but she was old and almost blind. She was good for cleaning but when she tried to cook the results were horrible so Grimmjow did all the cooking himself. That was clearly a problem with his arm broken, and Starrk was the only one he could trust around sharp objects. Starrk was a bit unhappy about the disturbance to his sleep but otherwise went along with it.

Later that day, but before the customers would arrive, Grimmjow took Shiro out of his cell. His left arm was immobilized in a cast, along with a sling, but he didn't seem to be in much pain. He proved that went he gripped Shiro's throat in one lightning move and slammed him against the bars of the cell, making him gag. Clawed fingers dug into his skin and Shiro gripped his wrist, trying to ease the choking pain.

"I'm done with you." Grimmjow growled and for one terrified moment Shiro was afraid he'd just rip his throat out. "Are you going to live and submit or die? Decide!" He snarled and Shiro swallowed, gasping as the claws drew drops of blood from his throat.

"S-Submit." He managed to croak out and Grimmjow's grip loosened slightly. "…Sorry." He whispered, remembering the torture Grimmjow had gone through. Was it as bad as multiple incidents of rape? Shiro didn't think so, but it had still been ugly. Grimmjow snorted, drawing his hand back.

"You don't have to be sorry. I wouldn't be, giving up is for pussies. But I need to properly train you, and fast. Our customers expect the best." Grimmjow said with a scowl and Shiro nodded to himself. This place wasn't cheap. "Come on." Grimmjow made him walk in front of him, which wasn't surprising. His broken arm was a great weakness.

Shiro was expecting another rape, but it didn't come. Instead, what followed was a lesson in acting. And it didn't take very long to establish that he was terrible at it.

"Even a concussed goblin wouldn't believe you." Grimmjow told him and Shiro flushed before scowling.

"I'd like to see you do better!" He snapped and Grimmjow suddenly grinned. Instead of the cold, vicious expression he was used to there was mischief there.

"You want to hear my bedroom voice?" The big man paused for a moment and his face changed as if he was donning a mask. He gave Shiro a smoldering look through lowered eyelashes, deliberately lashing his tail as he knelt in front of the albino. "Please touch me, master. I want you so much." His voice was deep and purring but with just a hint of breathless need. Shiro stared, feeling almost petrified. "Fuck me, master." Grimmjow nuzzled his crotch and Shiro yelped, jerking away.

"S-Stop that!" He demanded, feeling like a complete pervert. This was the man who'd raped him repeatedly, violently. He shouldn't be getting hard at a little performance. "The hell did you learn to do that?" The mask dropped away and Grimmjow made a face.

"I've been a slave all my life. I was taken away from my mother when I was five. How d'you think I learned it?" He said shortly and Shiro flinched at the information. There were no laws about the treatment of slaves, and those with a fetish for children often indulged it with them. "But fuck that. Let's start with telling the truth, then move it into acting." Shiro frowned, puzzled.

"What d'ya mean – hey!" Shiro almost started to struggle as Grimmjow began to unzip his pants. He froze at the growl from the blue man. He'd decided to submit and survive. He had to remember that. "What're you doing?" He asked apprehensively, feeling his gut tighten in anticipation of pain. Grimmjow tugged his pants down then rested his palm against Shiro's flat stomach.

"Starting with the truth." A wicked smile curved pale lips and Grimmjow bent down, taking Shiro in his mouth. The pale man gasped raggedly then closed his eyes, struggling not to enjoy it.

It was hopeless. It seemed Grimmjow knew how to give pleasure as well as pain, and Shiro was only a teenager. He'd had exactly one experience like this before, and she hadn't known what she was doing either. The things Grimmjow was doing with his tongue, the way he was slowly, languidly playing with his balls… Shiro shivered and screwed his eyes shut tighter. He didn't want this. He didn't, but his body was betraying him… Then Grimmjow let go of him with a small pop and things got worse.

"Tell me how much you want it." That purring voice again. Shiro whimpered and shook his head. "Tell me." Grimmjow demanded, gripping the base of his erection before giving him a long, slow lick from the base to the tip.

"Unh… ah! So… fucking good…" Shiro panted out, feeling his shame heating his cheeks. This was degrading, an affront to his pride. It was working though. He could hear the desire in his own voice. "P-Please... More..."

"You need to add something to that." Grimmjow prompted him before sucking the tip of his cock into his mouth. Shiro felt like he might explode as that hot tongue teased his slit, but Grimmjow's hand on his base prevented it. For a moment he couldn't think what the blue man wanted, but then he knew.

"Master!" He cried, feeling dirty just saying the word. Grimmjow let go of his dick and went down on him, taking him so deep into his throat that Shiro could feel his nose touch his belly. "AH!" The hot, tight wetness around his cock was stimulating him unbearably. The coil in his belly suddenly snapped and he came in a toe curling, indescribably pleasurable orgasm. But as the moment passed, he felt sick and used. Shiro wanted to stay strong but he couldn't, not against this. Tears built in his eyes as he reached up to quickly brush them away. Grimmjow pulled away from him and looked up at him, frowning slightly at the reaction.

"Why are you crying?" He asked and Shiro almost didn't answer. But what did it matter? Holding back a sniff he tried to explain.

"It's so… degrading… I have my pride!" He told the cat man, who just looked at him for a moment with remote blue eyes. Then Grimmjow sighed and stood, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Let go of your pride." He advised. "There's no shame in surviving, and that's all a slave can do." Shiro swallowed at the bitterness in his tone. "That's enough today. Come." Shiro nodded and did up his pants before following Grimmjow silently.

He had a feeling Grimmjow had given him good advice. He would have to try to take it.


	3. Lessons

The next four days were unpleasant, but less so than Shiro would have imagined.

Now that he was willing to cooperate, Grimmjow was much gentler. Those big hands knew how to gently caress skin, how to give pleasure and satisfy needs. And everything he did had a point, even if it was humiliating and embarrassing. Like the first lesson in preparing himself.

"Can't believe you're watching me do this." Shiro muttered as he spread his legs a bit more. He was naturally flexible and it was helping him now, as he slid a finger into his hole. "Would ya stop staring at me?" Grimmjow was watching him from a rickety chair by the side of the bed. He mostly looked bored with the whole thing, but grinned at Shiro's annoyed snarl.

"No. I'm getting you ready for the customers. Some will want to prepare you themselves and some prefer you to be ready before they enter the room, but some will want to watch you do it." Shiro looked up to see if he was serious and was horrified to find that he seemed to be. "Watching you finger yourself would be a lot hotter if you didn't look like you were playing with a dead rat."

"Shut up!" Shiro snarled with a blush. Now that they were actually talking, his 'master' could embarrass him effortlessly. "Nnngh." Shiro tried to relax, closing his eyes as he tried to remember why he was doing this. He needed to learn to put on a show. Acting was a huge part of being a whore, in an expensive place like this anyway.

"Yeah, stick it in there you slutty bitch." Shiro's eyes popped open and he gave Grimmjow a scorching glare. "You like it, don't you? Dirty whore." The big man was grinning and Shiro felt a violent desire to choke him.

"What the fuck?!" He yelped and stopped his work, grabbing the pillow off the bed and throwing it at the blue man. "You fucking bastard! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Grimmjow caught the pillow easily, still grinning.

"I'm being one of the customers. Remember? D'you think they'd just sit here and watch?" Shiro felt another blush starting and snarled at Grimmjow again. But then the big man got serious. "That calm thing you were doing a moment ago is fine, although not ideal. Blushing is fine, but snarling is not okay. Now, keep going."

"Oh my god yer serious." Shiro muttered before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He could do this. He had to do this. "What's ideal then?"

"Um? Oh, panting and making breathy little moans. Don't worry about it, that will come with time." Grimmjow waved that concern away and Shiro almost wanted to ask if the blue man knew how to do that. But he had a bad feeling that Grimmjow was probably a master at it, and he really didn't want to watch him putting on a performance. It just seemed terribly wrong from the powerful and dominant male. "For now, calm and a bit of blushing is more than enough."

"Alright." Shiro took a deep breath and went back to his work. He closed his eyes and couldn't help but blush as Grimmjow whispered filthy things to him. It would be worse when the customers did it. Shiro knew Grimmjow didn't really mean anything he was saying, but they would certainly mean it. But he had to master this.

When he was sufficiently prepared, Grimmjow joined him on the bed. Shiro felt his breath come a bit of short with both fear and anticipation as the blue man kissed him, indulging in a bit of foreplay. Most of the customers would do that, apparently. The few who didn't tended to be dangerous and Grimmjow had told him he wouldn't get any of them until he was more experienced. Except in a few rare cases, Grimmjow decided if a particular customer was too much for one of his whores.

A rough, callused thumb trailed over his nipple, the tip of a claw teasing white skin. Shiro gasped as Grimmjow mouth descended on his other nipple, slowly suckling on the taunt flesh. Shiro bucked helplessly and whined, deep in his throat. He didn't have to fake his reactions, not really. When Grimmjow was pleased the things he did felt oh, so good. Grimmjow gripped his thigh with one hand and Shiro cooperated, spreading his legs. It would be easy to deny Grimmjow at the moment, with his broken arm, but there was no point. Then the blue man was inside him, stretching his walls and filling him in a way fingers never could.

"Ah!" Shiro uttered a sharp, involuntary cry as Grimmjow pulled out then thrust back in sharply, nailing his prostate. "Nnn." Shiro gasped as Grimmjow explored his throat, giving him gentle love bites. He could feel the fur of the cat man's ears, tickling his skin. "So good…" He groaned as the blue man fucked him into the bed, that huge, throbbing length filling him mercilessly. It felt good and he was losing his shame at it. He just wanted Grimmjow to keep doing it, keep driving him towards his orgasm.

Shiro tangled his hands in blue hair, pulling the other man's head so he could look into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes were suspicious and wary at the unexpected action, but they widened with surprise as Shiro tugged the blue man down into a kiss. There was a small moment of resistance before Grimmjow responded, their tongues fighting an intimate battle as the other man kept thrusting into him, still finding his prostate with unerring precision.

Shiro whimpered into Grimmjow's mouth as the blue man suddenly slowed. He'd been so close! But then he realized, through his lust fogged brain, that that was the point. Grimmjow didn't want it to end too soon. Shiro clawed at the back of his partner's head, overcome with need. He wanted release, needed it desperately.

But Grimmjow wasn't going to allow it. The thrusts turned teasing and shallow, and Shiro panted as he slowly regained control of himself. Then, when he was ready, Grimmjow adjusted himself and pleasure ripped through him again.

"Nnn! Ah… Grimmjow!" Shiro was a wanton mess, his legs wrapped tightly around that slender, muscular waist. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he shouldn't be reacting like this, letting Grimmjow play his body like a flute, but the rest of him just didn't care. It was too good for that.

"Shit… the way you say my name… like it means something…" Grimmjow's voice was hoarse and full of passion, but there was something strange about it, something almost… pained? Shiro had no time to think about it before the pleasure wiped away rational thought. He was so close now, so close. His body was trembling and sheened with sweat. How long had they been doing this? He didn't know but he wanted to cum, needed to cum.

This time, Grimmjow let him. A few more hammer blows to his prostate and Shiro screamed as his pleasure reached a peak. His whole body tensed, arching almost off the bed as creamy cum painted his belly and chest. Then Shiro felt Grimmjow start to pull away, still hard. Sudden rage filled his half-conscious mind and he jerked his head up, snarling at the startled cat.

Acting more out of instinct than anything logical, Shiro turned the tables on Grimmjow. He took the overseer completely by surprise, flipping him onto his back and riding him with all the skill he'd gained in the past three days. Muscles moved under pale skin as Shiro pulled himself up and thrust back down, forcing the big man to move. Grimmjow was growling, a feral, powerful sound that made his skin tingle. His good hand found Shiro's hip, black claws pricking pale skin as Grimmjow pulled him down, meeting him with a buck of his hips. Shiro gasped as he felt the blue man finally cum, felt the heat of his release filling him.

Coming down from his instinctive high, Shiro wondered what he had done. Why had he forced Grimmjow to take pleasure from him? The answer came to him as he rested his hands against Grimmjow's chest, leaning his forehead against that sweat soaked skin. He didn't want to be used like an object, taken and molded without emotion. He wanted to be seen, to be acknowledged. He was still a person, still himself. He wasn't sure how Grimmjow cumming inside him made that better, but it was less degrading, more… real.

"Shit." Shiro stirred as a gentle hand slid through his hair and lifted his head, meeting dazed, exhausted blue eyes. "There's more I can teach you, but it can wait. You'll have your first real customer tomorrow." Shiro froze for a moment. In the heat of the moment, he'd almost forgotten why he was doing this. Fear flowed through him and he swallowed, hard. He'd gotten used to Grimmjow, gotten used to the training, but a client would be new and dangerous. Then a black hand cupped his face, a thumb resting on his bottom lip for a moment as their eyes met again. "Shh. Just do that and you'll be fine."

"Dunno if I can do that with anyone but you." Shiro muttered, feeling shaken. Despite all the times he'd been taken cruelly, Grimmjow felt almost safe now. He knew exactly what to expect from him. Truthfully, even when the big man had been raping him, it had always been logical and predictable. There was no guarantees a client would be like that. He winced as he felt the blue man going soft inside him and pulled away, ignoring the line of cum that slid down his thigh.

"You'll start off easy. I'll give a few of our nicer customers a good rate for you." Grimmjow promised and Shiro nodded, trying to take comfort in that. It was hard though.

It seemed his career as a whore would officially start tomorrow.

* * *

The next week really wasn't that bad.

Grimmjow was true to his promise and started him off with the easier customers. They weren't hard to please and mostly paid by the hour. Some customers would buy the services of a whore for the entire night, often ordering food. But those customers expected a whore who would flatter them, make conversation and play chess or plaques (but always let them win). Shiro wasn't really ready for those customers yet, so all he got was the ones who wanted a quick bang.

They really weren't very good lovers. Shiro had gotten a lot of use out of Grimmjow's lessons, particularly the ones about how to fake an orgasm. He'd been shocked to find that was even possible for a man, but there was a reason why the clients got the dim, romantic lighting. It was a lot easier if they took him from behind, but even when it was face to face there were ways to pretend he'd cum. It was a useful skill, especially with the ones who were regrettably quick.

Despite the fact that he was taking customers, his lessons with Grimmjow continued. And some were more surprising than others.

"Ya want me to what?" Shiro honestly thought he must have misheard. Why would Grimmjow want that from him? But the blue man took a hands and knees position on the bed, flicking his tail to one side. Shiro blushed at the sight of firm, muscular buttocks. It had been a month and his left arm was mostly healed, so the position was no problem.

"I want you to take me." Grimmjow said and Shiro had to look away. He felt a bit of anticipation at the thought, but also fear. He'd never taken another man before. What if he did it all wrong? "Don't worry about hurting me, I already lubed up.

"Uh… good." Shiro said weakly before reminding himself that Grimmjow had taken him painfully, plenty of times. If he got hurt that was fine. "But why're we doing this? Are there some customers who like this too?" If Grimmjow just wanted him to pleasure him… well, Shiro supposed he would. It seemed strange though. Grimmjow glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"I want to expand your clientele a bit. Tomorrow we'll practice your acting again." Shiro grimaced at that and began taking off his clothes. Honestly, he would rather fuck Grimmjow than practice his acting. He was getting pretty good at it but it still didn't come naturally.

Shiro decided that foreplay was called for and reached under Grimmjow, stroking his cock. It quickly became hard in his hand and Shiro nuzzled the back of his neck before gently nipping on that skin. Surprisingly, it was soft and pliant to gentle touches. It made Shiro wonder. Was that hardness a defensive reaction that only activated to hostile actions?

Whatever it was, it wasn't there, and he took advantage of the lack. Grimmjow's dick felt like warm velvet in his palm, stiff yet soft and pleasant to touch. Shiro blushed as he realized he was already hard, but he couldn't help it. Grimmjow was desirable. He'd actually taken to pretending some of the less attractive customers were him, to help him get it up. Gripping those pale hips he slowly eased himself inside.

Grimmjow was tight and hot in there, gripping him in all the right ways. Shiro let out a breathy moan before claiming that wet heat, thrusting back in. It felt so good…

"You need to find my prostate." Grimmjow's voice sounded a little strained and Shiro felt a strange stab of shame. He'd been thinking of himself there, not his partner. Fumbling a bit, he adjusted his angle. "Nnngh… getting better…" Grimmjow lowered his head, his blue hair hiding his face. Shiro reached under him, stroking his cock with one hand as he kept trying to find that elusive spot.

He finally did and it was easy to tell, with the way Grimmjow jerked and growled. That feral sound was a huge turn on and Shiro was careful to hit that spot again with his next thrust. The way Grimmjow tightened around him made him gasp, but Shiro kept control of himself. He needed to keep it together, make this good for his lover.

He set a slow and steady pace, gradually figuring out what worked best. Grimmjow made a low, soft whine as Shiro slowly rubbed his cock against that special spot, stimulating him in a teasing way. He rubbed his cock a bit more heavily as he did, using a bit of precum to moisten his hand. That made the friction better and Shiro could hear Grimmjow's breathing speeding up. But he wanted more.

"I want t' see yer eyes." He whispered in the blue man's ear, enjoying the soft fur against his cheek. There was a shudder from the man beneath him before Grimmjow whispered back.

"Then do it." That was all the invitation Shiro needed, and he pulled out before flipping the blue man onto his back. Light blue hair spread out across the pillows and Shiro stopped, surprised by the look in Grimmjow's eyes. His face was serene, untouched by any emotion, but there was something strange and dark in those beautiful blue eyes. Yet even as his gaze screamed of pain, Grimmjow spread his legs invitingly and gripped Shiro's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Grimm?" Shiro questioned, resting a hand against the man's chest. Briefly, he wondered at himself. Why was he concerned about what the overseer was feeling? But seeing that look in his eyes made him feel queasy, almost like he was forcing himself on the other man. His mind flashed back to his own rapes and Shiro swallowed, suddenly nauseated by his close proximity to the other man. Grimmjow could easily sense the change in mood and pulled him close, into an embrace that was comforting rather than sexual.

"Shhh. It's alright." He murmured as Shiro took a hitching breath, shivering slightly at the feel of strong arms around him. "I'm… sorry." That was almost choked and Shiro had the feeling that Grimmjow hardly ever apologized to anyone, except perhaps Aizen-sama. And those apologies wouldn't be real, just attempts to keep punishment at bay.

"Fer what?" Shiro asked, letting himself relax a little. His erection had completely vanished, and Grimmjow's as well, but the blue man didn't seem to care.

"For giving you the same kind of memories I have." Grimmjow's voice was soft and Shiro lifted his head, meeting blue eyes. He could see compassion there, and an ancient pain. It made him wonder how many times Grimmjow had been bedded against his will. Probably more than he could even count. But that didn't make his own pain any less, or change the fact that Grimmjow had raped him.

"…Why'd ya have to buy me?" Shiro suddenly asked. "Why couldn't you have let that other guy have me?" Whatever that man had wanted with him, surely it would have been better than this. But Grimmjow just gave a bitter laugh.

"You'd have been dead in a month." He said bluntly, some of the usual hardness returning to his expression. But the arms cradling him were still gentle as Grimmjow sat up, still holding Shiro against his chest. "That man was a scout for the Coliseum. He'd have bought you on spec, because you look like a demon." Shiro swallowed at that. His looks were purely from his demon father, in coloring at least. Facially, he resembled Ichigo greatly. But he had no real magical power to speak of. "They'd have known you were a dud before the week was out. So they'd have let some people get glimpses of you, spread some rumors about a new possible champion, then give some good odds on you. Always fools willing to throw away a few silver on a new challenger." Grimmjow's tone was ripe with contempt. "A gold to buy you and they'd have made at least thirty when you died." The cynical tone didn't suit the blue man at all, but Shiro found that he believed him. He hadn't bet on anything while he was there, but betting on fights was definitely where the owners of the coliseum made their money. "You're better off here. Believe me, Shiro."

"I…" Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. "I believe you." And he did. He honestly didn't think Grimmjow was lying to him about his other possible fate. A big hand slid through his hair, gently untangling a few snowy strands. His hair had grown out quite a bit, and was just past his shoulders now.

"That's enough for tonight." Grimmjow said gently before suddenly grinning. "The mood is dead, you killed it. We can try again tomorrow maybe." Shiro nodded, moving off the big man. His lessons were mostly on days when he serviced few or no clients. Grimmjow didn't want to exhaust him before the customers came, so he waited for days when Shiro wasn't requested. There were still plenty of those, Shiro wasn't as popular as some of the other whores.

But that might change with time.

* * *

"What've you got there?" Shiro questioned Nel. The elf was sitting in the corner of her cell, slowly eating something and pausing to suck on her fingers. She looked like she was in a state of pure bliss and he couldn't imagine what she'd gotten hold of. Grimmjow never gave them drugs, even when it would make his job easier.

"You can't have any." Shiro lifted his snowy brows at the possessive way she clutched the little box to her chest. Sniffing the air, he tried to discern any hint of what she might have. It took him a moment, but he caught the distinctive whiff of cocoa.

"Ya have _chocolate?_" Shiro couldn't help the shock in his voice. Chocolate was _obscenely_ expensive. He was noble born and he'd had it only on midwinter. He could have saved up his allowance for it, but he wasn't in love with it that much. Nel looked at her little box, then at him.

"…You can have a nougat. I don't like nougat." She said grudgingly and he had to laugh. She looked like a little girl who didn't want to give up her favorite toy. But she passed him a small chocolate and Shiro took a tentative bite.

"S'good chocolate." He mumbled. Some chocolate was terrible, cut with cheaper fillers or skimpy with the sugar, but this was excellent. Rich and smooth and silky on the tongue. "Where'd you get this?" He asked, still amazed that she would have it. Nel finished her latest bit of chocolate before responding.

"It was a gift from an admirer." She admitted and Shiro blinked. He was surprised Grimmjow would let her keep something worth so much. "Gifts are rare, but we do get them sometimes. The stupid or self-centered will sometimes give us fine jewelry." Her tone held contempt. "They want to see us in it, so Grimmjow must note who gave it and hold it for us. He hates it, it is just extra work for him. If a customer does not come in a year, kitten can sell anything they gave us. But it goes in a special book and does not count towards his revenue goals. Those gifts benefit no one but Aizen." Her voice was withering. But then she brightened. "The smart ones bring us treats. Candies, chocolates, fruits… Aizen does not expect Grimmjow to sell them, and it's too much extra work for him. He could take it from us, but kitten is too fair for that. I am saving him a raspberry crème, though. They are his favorites." She confided and Shiro had to laugh.

"Ya like Grimmjow, don't ya Nel?" He teased her and the elf woman laughed. She had a beautiful laugh, like tinkling bells.

"Not like that! Silly Shiro." She said merrily and Shiro felt an odd relief. He wasn't sure why he cared, but he liked the fact that Nel wasn't holding a candle for Grimmjow. "He is a very good overseer. He doesn't try to skimp on our food, or take our treats. He doesn't punish us when we do not deserve it, and always listens to our side of things. He can be gentle, sometimes. And I feel sorry for him. Dealing with Aizen…" She stopped there and Shiro nodded. Their ultimate master hadn't been back, but from what little Grimmjow had said he knew he would be someday. "Well, I will put these away for later. Or I'll eat Grimmjow's crème."

"Can I have one?" Starrk's said sleepily and Nel scowled, cradling her box protectively.

"No!" Shiro grinned at them both before settling into his cot to sleep. He drifted off with the taste of chocolate still in his mouth, and that gave rise to beautiful dreams of midwinter with his family, sipping hot cocoa and sampling a box of fine chocolates. In the morning his pillow was wet, but he couldn't remember why.


	4. Trading Pasts

Shiro watched curiously as Grimmjow unlocked the door of a cell across from him.

The girl inside was named Orihime. She had long, beautiful orange hair and a wonderful smile. She was nearly as popular as Nel with the customers but she was only human. Eventually, the blush of her youth would fade. Shiro wondered what happened to the human slaves when that happened. Grimmjow couldn't keep them past a certain point, although there were things he could do to stretch it out. Eventually, though, he had to sell them. What happened to them then?

But it was too early for a customer to be here and Shiro watched as Grimmjow talked quietly with Orihime. She suddenly hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder and he put his arms around her, returning her affection gently. Shiro scowled at that, feeling a stab of… jealousy? He knew it was stupid and irrational, but he didn't like seeing someone else touching the blue man that way.

"Everyone! Say goodbye to Orihime. Her brother finally got together the money to buy her back." Grimmjow turned, the woman still in his arms, and announced to the room. Shiro's eyes went wide and he couldn't help but smile as there was a cheer from the other slaves. Even Starrk stirred himself enough to wave goodbye.

"Good luck, Ori!" He called to her and she gave him a radiant smile. It put her usual smile in the shade. She gathered up her few possessions… a few bits of cheap jewelry given to her by the customers, they were allowed to keep those… and left with Grimmjow, a spring in her step. Shiro looked at the empty cell wistfully. Would Ichigo ever find him? Would that be him someday, leaving this place?

There was no point in thinking about it, and Shiro was taken with Grimmjow, Nel and Starrk to get his daily dose of sun. It was actually a high point of the day. There was an herb and vegetable garden in the back, tended by Grimmjow between his other duties. Not because he had to – the blue man had actually planted it – but because he wanted to. It was a useful hobby that gave them fresh food and seasonings every year.

"You want some mint leaves?" Grimmjow asked and Starrk declined but Nel took one. Shiro took one as well, chewing the little sprig. The crisp and distinctive flavor of mint filled his mouth, cool and soothing.

"What're you making us fer supper?" Shiro asked, just making conversation. Grimmjow grimaced.

"Manky fish in a sauce so hot, you won't be able to taste it." He said a little too frankly and Nel laughed, her sweet, tinkling laugh. "Food's getting dear again. It's that time of the year." Shiro nodded. He knew what Grimmjow meant. The start of the growing season, when the food from last year was running low but the new crops weren't ready, was always the worst time of the year for food. Dried chilies were cheap, though, and could mask the rot of less than savory foodstuffs.

For a moment he looked at the walls surrounding the courtyard. This was the red light district, sort of a bad part of town. Safe enough, if you knew what you were doing, but plenty of cutpurses and thieves to take you if you didn't. Still, Shiro was certain he could make it out there. If he only dared, he could try to make it to the walls… but Grimmjow was faster. The big man would catch him and punish him, stop letting him come outside, and he would deserve it. Shiro sighed to himself, turning away from the tantalizing mirage of freedom. He met Grimmjow's eyes as he did and he could see in them a wary watchfulness. But then the cat gave him a small smile and Shiro thought he really did understand.

"Kitten? Can I help you in the garden soon? The weeds are coming in." Nel sounded wistful and Shiro was reminded that she was an elf, a creature of the forest. A small garden was a poor substitute for the wild forest, but it was something. Grimmjow nodded.

"Yeah, I'll take you out early tomorrow and we can weed it together." He said comfortably and Nel smiled at him. Her smile was warm and loving, but seemed motherly to Shiro. There was nothing sexual in it.

After the allotted time, they were all brought back to their cells. Shiro did some exercises as he thought. Grimmjow had taught him the exercises, a series of movements that could be easily done in a cell and would keep him in shape. In fact, he was in better condition than he'd ever been in his life. Unlimited time and the knowledge of what to do had ensured that.

But what he was thinking about was Grimmjow. His mind kept going back to the blue man, so often that Shiro wondered if he was verging on an obsession. It was probably sick as hell to be attracted to someone who had abused him, but Shiro loved the way the big man could make his body sing. It wasn't just that though. Now that he was cooperating with him, he saw what Nel meant when she said he was a good overseer.

Grimmjow really did look after them. It hadn't happened to him yet, but when the big man put one of them with a customer who was potentially violent, there was always a special velvet pull within easy reach. Tugging it would trip a magical alarm and Grimmjow would come to see what was happening. That wasn't something Aizen had put in, it was Grimmjow's personal magic, and he'd saved his slaves from a beating or worse. Aizen didn't much care as long as the revenues were good and the clients weren't his favorites. Aizen's 'special' customers could do anything they damn well pleased.

He also didn't skimp on the food, even when they would rather he did. Shiro looked at his last meal of the day with a grimace. True to Grimmjow's promise, it was fish just shy of rotten, baked half to death and coated in a sticky hot sauce. It was nestled in a pocket of flatbread, cheap and grainy but filling. Shiro swallowed his food quickly, trying not to taste it. It was better that way. Then he went back to his exercises, working out to pass the time.

The night began completely normally. Grimmjow took several slaves out of their cells, leading them to the rooms where they would pleasure the customers. The doors locked magically, courtesy of Aizen-sama. Grimmjow, Starrk and the customers could open them but the usual whores couldn't. None of the rooms had windows, so it was difficult to escape. Shiro stretched out on his cot, hoping he wouldn't be called on tonight. He just wasn't in the mood for sex, let alone with random strangers.

Then something unusual happened. The door opened and Grimmjow walked in, but there was someone else with him. Shiro sat up, gazing alertly at the stranger. He was tall, and wearing a black silk shirt that had probably cost more than Shiro's entire wardrobe, back when he'd had one. His hair was long and black, framing a face with a long, narrow nose and an even narrower chin. He was grinning and the amount of teeth revealed was a bit unsettling.

"So, you got anything new and interesting? I'm bored with the usual shit." He drawled and Shiro frowned as he realized what was happening. This was a customer and he was picking out a slave personally. Shiro had heard of that, but never seen it. Almost all the customers just looked at the pictures and the write ups, got Grimmjow's recommendation, or just went with an old favorite. They preferred not to really think about the slaves and the way they lived. Seeing them in little cells that had once been pig pens would have broken the illusion. "What's this?" The stranger stopped right in front of his cell and Shiro tried to wipe his face clean as the man looked at him. He had an eyepatch over his left eye, his right was a dark grey.

"He's not ready for you." Grimmjow said and Shiro suddenly noticed the tension in him. It was subtle and if he hadn't been so familiar with Grimmjow he might have missed it, but his body language said he disliked this man. The stranger almost pouted.

"Whaddaya mean he's not ready for me? Ya think I'd be too rough on him?" He said and Shiro turned his head as he heard a snuffling sound from Starrk's cell. He blinked as he realized the wolf was stifling a laugh with his pillow. That… was probably a bad sign. To rouse Starrk from his rest, that little statement had to be a real humdinger.

"You're too much for him, Nnoitra." Grimmjow's voice was a low growl and Shiro stole a glance at the overseer. He looked pissed. "He's new, you know that. Give me more time to break him in." That pissed Shiro off and he gave Grimmjow a glare before remembering they had an audience.

"Hah, lookit him!" Nnoitra sounded delighted and Shiro fixed his gaze at the floor. "He glared at ya! I want him."

"No." Grimmjow sounded strained now and Starrk wasn't snickering anymore. "He's not ready. Give me more time." Shiro stole a glance and saw the stranger was scowling. A scowl that turned into a wide, unsettling grin.

"Oh yeah?" The tall man let go of the bars of his cell and grabbed Grimmjow's arm. The overseer could easily have evaded him but he had better sense then to try, and Nnoitra pinned him against the bars to Shiro's cell. Grimmjow's back was against the bars, and his hands closed on the iron as the tall man grinned and licked his throat with a shockingly long tongue. "You know, I've never had you. Aizen lets you say no, doesn't he? The perk of bein' an overseer… Let me have ya and I'll give you time to train your l'il demon. What do you say?" Grimmjow's hands tightened on the bars and Shiro could see that his ears were flat against his head.

"…Fine." Grimmjow's growl was reluctant, angry. Shiro swallowed as the stranger looked surprised. He clearly hadn't expected the overseer to give in to his request. "Starrk. Get your lazy ass out of bed, you're taking over for me." There was a protesting groan from the wolf, but he got up as Grimmjow opened his cell. Shiro watched as the blue man led a grinning Nnoitra away, wondering what he had just witnessed. Grimmjow had protected him? Nel was off with a customer so he had no one to ask.

The rest of the night went normally. Shiro wasn't called on and Nel didn't return, her customer having purchased the entire night with her. Shiro found it difficult to sleep and he kept waking, wondering what was happening to Grimmjow.

He didn't find out until morning. Starrk had returned long before, but Nel and a few others were brought back to their cells by Grimmjow. The big man looked mostly unharmed, but he was walking stiffly and Shiro could see bruises on his normal arm. But he didn't say anything to Shiro, just delivering breakfast without a word and moving on. He ate the oat porridge without tasting it as he looked at Nel. She was gazing after Grimmjow with a pensive look on her face.

"Nnoitra is the worst customer we have." She said softly and Shiro was grateful that he wouldn't have to ask. "He has killed three whores since he started coming. But he is one of Aizen's business associates so kitten cannot turn him away." She said sadly and Shiro swallowed, sans food. So Grimmjow had protected him. Did he think the tall man would have killed him? "I had to heal him. Internal injuries take longer for him… poor kitten." That gave him a chill. He knew all about the kind of injuries she was referring to, although Grimmjow had given him most of them.

"Th' hell's wrong with me?" Shiro mumbled to himself. Grimmjow was a rapist. Sure, it might be part of his duties but he'd surely had the option to _not_ be the overseer at some point. Right? So why had he picked this? "…I need t'talk to him." He had so many questions for Grimmjow, starting with why his left arm was so odd and going all the way to why he often didn't cum when they had sex.

He didn't get a chance for a while, though. Grimmjow still had his duties and he worked hard every day, cleaning, cooking and keeping the place in good repair. Shiro might not have believed it but he'd seen it, seen Grimmjow fixing all the little things that went wrong in the pens. But the big man came by to deliver them lunch as usual.

"Can we talk?" Shiro asked quietly as Grimmjow pushed his food through the slot at the bottom of the door. The big man paused for a moment, looking tired.

"Later." Was all he said before going on and Shiro had to be content with that. He tried his food and found it was a bean concoction, lightly flavored with salted pork. It was actually pretty good and he devoured it, licking it off his fingers.

True to his promise, Grimmjow came by a bit later to get him out of his cell. Shiro didn't want to talk in front of the other slaves, and Grimmjow seemed to know that. The big man led him out to a room that Shiro hadn't seen before… no. He had seen it before, just very briefly. This was Grimmjow's private rooms.

This time he had more leisure to look around and Shiro took advantage of it, examining the room. It was more than a bedroom but less than a real suite. There was a bed against the back wall, just beneath a window. The window was full of cheap glass, blobby and cloudy, but it let the light in. The bed beneath it was messy but had a rather nice comforter with a pattern of blue and green. There was a battered desk shoved against a wall, with records and receipts that had been roughly arranged. The pile there wasn't exactly neat but it looked functional and reminded Shiro of his uncle's accountants. There was a small table in the middle of the room, with two chairs. A dining area for the few times Grimmjow had a guest. The only other furnishings in the room were a small picture on one of the walls, and a pair of crossed swords. The picture was a forest scene, dark and beautiful. The swords were battered and old, looking like they had seen a hundred and one battles.

"Take a seat. You want some tea?" Shiro took a seat at the table and nodded. "It's not real tea, just herbs from my garden, but it's okay."

"It'll be fine." He said, feeling a bit nervous as Grimmjow poured him some tea. There was a small brazier that he used to keep the water warm. He sipped his mug and found that it was rather good, flavored with mint and a bit of dried fruit. Grimmjow took a seat across from him, his tail slipping easily through the slats of the chair. "…What are ya anyway?" He had to ask. He'd never seen anything like the blue man before. Grimmjow took a sip of his tea then shrugged.

"I don't know." He said and Shiro blinked. "I was taken away from my mother before I could ask, and Aizen said the man who sold me couldn't tell him. Tests say I'm something like a sidereal celestial, whatever the hell that is."

"Umph!" Shiro couldn't help but be impressed with that. With his own background, he knew a bit about angels, devils and demons. A sidereal celestial was a very powerful angel, but also a neutral one. They were nearly unapproachable to humans. "You must be really powerful then." He said and Grimmjow nodded.

"I tore a dark naga apart with my bare hands, once." Grimmjow said with a small smile of remembrance. "The crowd loved it." He sighed before taking a sip of his tea. "Those were good days. I miss it sometimes."

"Can ya… can ya tell me how you ended up here?" Shiro asked tentatively. He knew that would probably tread on some painful territory. Grimmjow took another sip of his tea, then laughed.

"You want my life history? Only if you give me yours, half-demon." Shiro blinked as he realized Grimmjow was curious about him. But then, most half-fiends didn't survive childhood. Horrified parents or villagers usually killed them. And that was when they got born at all, most victims of demonic rape would do anything to abort the offspring. He nodded and the blue man continued. "I'm older than I look. Probably around forty or so, I haven't been keeping track. I was born to a private concubine on a rich man's estate. He probably would have had me killed, but he knew right off that I was something special." Grimmjow reached up to touch his right ear and Shiro nodded. He'd surely had those ears at birth. "I had no idea we were slaves. We lived in a room with barred windows, but it seemed normal to me. And we got to go in the gardens sometimes. I loved playing in them." Grimmjow sighed before looking into his mug of tea. "Then they took me away from my mama. They drugged me to make me compliant, then took me to a private auction. That was when I was sold to Aizen-sama." His tone was bitter and Shiro found that he wasn't too surprised that Aizen would be into little kids. He seemed like the type. "At first, he was nice to me. I'd never had a father figure and at first I thought he would be it. But it didn't take long before he got around to what he bought me for. He kind of eased me into it, started with my mouth and hands but, well…" Grimmjow shrugged and Shiro found he really didn't want the details. "At first I was helpless and hurt but as I got older I came to hate him. I tried everything I could to escape and he finally geas bound me. After that, I learned how to play him and his friends. He shared us, you see." Grimmjow's blue eyes were remote and Shiro winced at the thought. "When I started getting a bit older, he talked about having me gelded to keep me looking childish." Grimmjow's tone was rough and Shiro swallowed hard at that. He knew it was done, turning boys into eunuch's, but it was usually to preserve an amazing singing voice and often it was voluntary. "But Aizen could feel my power coming and decided I would be more valuable in the arena."

"He keeps a lot of gladiators?" Shiro hazarded. The Coliseum bought gladiators, but they were mostly into fodder for their spectacles. If the fodder turned out to be any good, they were usually bought by rich men and added to their stables of champions. It was like horse racing, but cheaper and a bit more difficult. Horses didn't try to escape, mostly. Grimmjow nodded.

"It's one of his hobbies. Anyway, when I was getting too old for fucking he sent me off to be trained by his gladiators. It didn't take long before they knew I would be powerful. That was when he put the full geas on me." Grimmjow jerked a thumb at his back and Shiro nodded. He'd seen the mark now, an elaborate gothic six. The number didn't actually mean anything, it was just the room he'd been assigned to. "It'll probably sound strange, but that was the best time of my life." He said, sounding almost nostalgic. "I loved fighting, the more dangerous the better. The roar of the crowd, chanting my name… it was like a drug. God, I loved those days." Grimmjow closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and grinned. "And the bitches. They would pay Aizen to sleep with me. He even sent me a few of his female slaves to prepare me, make sure I had the technique to please a woman before he took money for me. I even loved that, I was so fucking tired of cock. And a lot of them were damned good looking." He sipped his tea again as Shiro felt a quick rush of disappointment.

"You like girls?" He asked carefully. Shiro was wondering a bit about his own sexuality these days. He'd thought he liked girls, but he was starting to wonder if that was because he'd thought he should rather than he actually _did. _His attraction to the man across from him made it even more confusing. Grimmjow shrugged.

"I like women fine. I like men fine. I just have bad memories. Aizen's business friends are mostly guys." He said and Shiro nodded. That made sense. "I never got to touch a woman until I was a gladiator. But that all came to an end when I lost my arm." Grimmjow flexed his left arm, the human arm, and Shiro leaned forward a bit. He really wanted to know about the arm. "It was in a fight against a fucking dragon. An adolescent, sure, but still a fucking dragon. I killed it but it got my arm. This is a corpse serge." Shiro blanched at that. That was necromancy, and a very ugly business. Taking the limb from a corpse and grafting it onto a living man had to be done just right or the transplant would rot and kill the patient. A serge from a living donor was much safer but obviously completely awful for the donor. "It's just a human arm, taken from some dead thug. Strong for a human but complete bullshit for someone like me." Grimmjow flexed his fingers then shrugged. "Aizen decided to retire me. It's traditional, when a champion takes a disabling injury, to put them out to pasture. He made it sound like I would get a fucking mansion or some shit. The crowd ate it up with a fucking spoon and the master of the Coliseum gave me a medal. I still have it, but the gold wore off. Cheap gilded trash." He muttered, resting his cheek in his hand. He looked angry and depressed. "So then he sent me here. The end."

"Did ya have any choice about bein' the overseer?" Shiro asked. He needed to know. Grimmjow's eyes flashed with anger for a moment before he shrugged.

"Yeah, I could have been one of the whores instead. I picked the option that meant less cock up my ass. I admit, I didn't quite understand what my duties would be here. Sometimes, I think I might've made the wrong choice." He finished his tea before going to a cupboard and pulling out a vial. "Want something… medicinal?" He asked and Shiro knew what Grimmjow was talking about.

"Please." A bit of alcohol would be nice. The big man poured them a couple shots before slugging his back. Shiro followed his example and almost gagged. The stuff was foul but incredibly potent and made his eyes water. "Hck!"

"Now it's your turn. Tell me your story." Grimmjow demanded and Shiro nodded.

"It ain't too long, I'm younger'n you." He knew that for a fact, now. "I guess I should start with my mama. She was a paladin and pretty damned powerful. Not in your league, probably, but good and strong with the light." He told the blue man. "I never knew her. All I've seen is her pictures… see, she got taken by a demon lord and he raped her, a lot." Shiro stated the facts plainly. His uncle, Ichigo's father, hadn't believed in lying to him. "Th' other paladins managed to rescue her but she was preggers with me. They wanted t' make her abort but she wouldn't have it. She kept saying that I was her little flower." Shiro's nickname as a child had been Shiro-hana, white flower, because of that. "She died givin' birth. My uncle would've killed me if I'd taken after my dad, but he had me checked out by the best priests he could find. They all told him my heritage was only skin deep." Shiro couldn't keep the regret out of his voice. It wasn't that he wanted to be demonic, but he hated being so weak and helpless. People always expected more from him than he could give.

"It's probably better this way." Grimmjow said and Shiro gave him a skeptical look. "Half-fiends who show their nature tend towards cannibalism. We had a few who would always celebrate a win by eating bits of their kill."

"Uh… okay." Shiro gulped back nausea at the thought. "I wish I had more power though… anyway, my uncle raised me with his son, my cousin. We were close like this." He raised his hand, putting his thumb and his first finger together. "My family is nobles, though, and we've always had a bit of a feud with the Kuchiki clan. It got nasty a few years ago and I was heading home from a trip when the bastards ambushed me." He hadn't been expecting it. That land should have been safe. "They massacred my escort and sold me into slavery. So that's where we are now." Although he still hoped Ichigo would find him. But there were literally four different places he could have been sold at, and it had all happened so fast that Ichigo would have had no time to intercept him before the auction. So it would take a while before any agents he sent could run him down. Grimmjow nodded slowly.

"You're waiting for him to find you, aren't you?" He asked and Shiro hesitated a moment before nodding. "If he does, Aizen will sell you to him. He likes his games but he likes money more." Grimmjow's voice and eyes were cold but the eyes warmed as the big man smiled. "Well, since you're here we should work on your acting again." He said lightly and Shiro groaned. Not that again! "Make whatever sounds you like, I need to expand your clientele. If a whore is underperforming, they're more likely to get taken for one of Aizen's special parties. You don't want that. Take my word for it." Grimmjow warned and Shiro scowled.

"What'll he make me do, fuck a dog?" He groused and Grimmjow lifted his eyebrows before favoring him with a nasty grin.

"It was a tiger for me." Shiro stared at him, trying to understand what the big man was saying. Then he did and if he could, he would have lost his color.

"Are you serious?" Grimmjow nodded and Shiro just had to continue. This was fascinating, in a disgusting sort of way. "Don't tigers have spines on their… whatsits?" He asked and Grimmjow laughed. It was a harsh, not very humorous sound.

"They do. And that wasn't the worst. I'd tell you about it, but you might puke and that's not sexy. Come on, let's go to the training room and get started." Shiro nodded, standing up and leaving before Grimmjow. They might be getting along better but the overseer would still want him in front.

It was safer that way.


	5. Just Another Day

Author's Note: I'm doing a lot of overtime at the moment so updates will be slow for a while. Enjoy!

* * *

"Do you want me to please you, master?" Shiro whispered the words in his best sultry, promising tone. He slowly stroked his hand along Grimmjow's inner thigh, feeling the hard muscles beneath his palm. "How can I serve you?" He managed that hint of breathless need effortlessly.

Shiro wasn't sure how long he'd been in the whorehouse. But he had a rough idea, thanks to his daily trips outside for sun. He'd been captured in the very early spring and it was autumn now. At least four months had passed, perhaps more.

It seemed like a short time, but it was long enough. He was really getting the hang of being a seductive siren now. As promised, Grimmjow had expanded his clientele. Now he would sometimes be hired for the entire night, which had some really nice benefits. If the clients ordered food, they didn't want to eat it while he watched. Usually they ordered for two, and often romantic finger foods meant to be fed to each other. A nearby restaurant catered to the whorehouse and Shiro had got some rather fine meals since he'd started cooperating.

He'd also gotten a few gifts. One was a fine bracelet of gold and onyx, and not to Shiro's surprise, Nel was correct. The only time he wore the thing was when that particular customer arrived and Grimmjow had muttered a low obscenity when he'd received it. The other gifts had included a bag of candied ginger and some sweet, heavy wine. Grimmjow had refused the first – he hated candied ginger – but he'd been more than willing to help with the second.

"How do you want to serve me?" The overseer asked, his voice a sultry purr and Shiro felt a kick to his libido. He couldn't help it. Just hearing Grimmjow talk make him want to fuck the blue man.

"In your bed, on top of you. I want to ride you, I want to feel your cock inside me." Shiro said before ducking his face close and gripping the waist of Grimmjow's boxers with his teeth. He pulled down the cheap black cotton and examined the treasures within. His lover was already at half-mast. He easily turned that into a full salute, licking him from base to tip with slow, teasing strokes of a dark blue tongue. That made Grimmjow growl deep in his throat and Shiro could feel the trembling tension in his muscles, the way he was stifling the urge to thrust into that teasing heat. Sliding up the blue man's body, Shiro met brilliant blue eyes before gripping his cock and easing himself down onto it.

"Shit!" Grimmjow cursed as Shiro moaned, feeling his inner walls stretching to accommodate the other man. He wasn't as tight as he'd been when this had started, but Grimmjow was huge compared to most of the customers. It was still a bit difficult, taking him in. "You feel so good." Grimmjow gripped his hips with his left hand before bucking up, taking him hard and fast and making him gasp. Shiro met the thrusts, closing his eyes for a moment as the pleasure coursed through him, putting him under a spell.

It was always like this when he had sex with Grimmjow. None of the customers could compare, no one made him react like this. It was like the big man had the keys to his body, something special that only he could unlock. And when Shiro opened his eyes and gazed down, he could see the naked desire in the other man's face.

"Take yer pleasure from me." He said, his voice thick with the pleasure that was hitting him every time Grimmjow moved. "I want ya to." He saw the flicker in the blue man's eyes, the brief hesitation before he surrendered himself to the rutting. And Shiro knew what was behind it. He hadn't asked, but he'd figured it out. Not cumming inside his partner was a mental trick, a way for Grimmjow to pretend he wasn't a rapist. It was a defense, but he didn't need it here. This wasn't rape, not anymore. Shiro sometimes wondered what it was but he knew it wasn't that.

That human hand wrapped around his erection and Shiro whimpered as Grimmjow skillfully jerked him off, even as his thick cock found his prostate with every thrust. It was amazing, but he really wanted to make Grimm cum first. He hadn't managed it yet. Then a thumb glided over his tip and Shiro gasped, his resolve weakening.

"You're so damned beautiful." Grimmjow groaned, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent. Shiro gasped at the prick of claws on his thigh, that strong hand holding his hip so carefully. Grimmjow's human hand was infinitely safer, but it was busy at the moment. And he liked the thrill of danger, knowing that a moment of inattention could give him a tremendous bruise, or worse. "Shiro… ah…" Grimmjow's eyes were half-closed now and his ears were fluttering. Shiro knew that was a sign that the blue man was going to cum soon and wondered if he would actually outlast him this time.

It was not to be. One particularly deft stroke, a thumb running along the underside of his penis combined with a hard hit to his prostate, saw to that. Shiro cried out as his orgasm took him, rocking him with pleasure. He was hardly aware of Grimmjow's cat like howl, the way his hand left his hip to tear at the blanket. But he felt the other man's cock spasm, felt the heat of his release deep inside him.

"Ah, Shiro." Grimmjow murmured as he rested against the big man's chest, exhausted. Warm arms went around him and Shiro smiled as he felt Grimmjow nuzzle him lovingly. "You're perfect. There's nothing more I can teach you." Shiro looked up sharply at the regret in his voice. He knew where Grimmjow was going and he wasn't going to allow it.

"We ain't stopping." He said stubbornly. He knew from a few quiet comments from Nel that Grimmjow usually trained the slaves, then never touched them again. Shiro wasn't going to allow that. "I want you." He said directly and scowled as Grimmjow smiled, a touch sadly. "Don't look at me like that!" That look… it was like Grimmjow was thinking about how silly he was being. The smile turned into a more humorous expression and Shiro blushed a bit as Grimmjow planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Would it surprise you to know you're not the first to say that to me?" Grimmjow said and Shiro shook his head. Given Grimmjow's skill in bed, he honestly wasn't surprised. Slavery was legal and living as an escaped slave would be almost impossible for girls like Orihime. Some of them wouldn't have fought him at all, so it was more than plausible that a few of them would have gotten crushes on the big man. "But you're the first to make me want to continue it, too." Grimmjow said in a low tone and Shiro could see the pain in his eyes.

"Grimm." He didn't know exactly where that pain was coming from, but he wanted to make it go away. He gently stroked a bit of hair out of his face before giving the other man a deep, searching kiss. He felt the edge of a sharp fang against his lip, before Grimmjow's tongue tangled with his. He could feel the incredible passion behind that kiss. They were both breathless when they pulled away and Grimmjow's arms tightened around him for a moment.

"Shiro, this is stupid." His voice was low and Shiro blinked, surprised. "Slaves should never get attached to each other. They can be sold at any time. And that's with a normal slavemaster. With Aizen… if he ever finds out you mean something to me, he'll use you against me." Grimmjow's hand slid down, gently rubbing his back as Shiro nodded. He had no doubt that was the truth. But…

"I don't care. I want ya." He said stubbornly. "I… I think I love you." Shiro surprised himself with that whisper. He blushed, his skin turning a light blue as he looked away. But he wasn't going to take the words back. It seemed like Grimmjow had managed to keep so much of himself despite his horrible circumstances. He was as good as he could be, living the way he did.

"Shiro…" Grimmjow's voice sounded hoarse, heavy with emotion. A clawed hand caught a handful of white hair and Shiro found himself pulled into another kiss, deep and passionate. They finally parted, breathless and hot. "I'm not sure I know what love is anymore." He admitted and Shiro wasn't surprised. He'd been abused from the age of five, that was guaranteed to mess up anyone's perception of love and intimacy. "But I want you too. Just… know the risks." He said softly and Shiro sighed, resting his forehead against Grimmjow's chest.

"You should know the risks, too. My cousin'll be here for me someday. But I'll ask him t' buy you too." Shiro added. Although he was sure Aizen would ask a lot for Grimmjow. Elves and other slow aging slaves were expensive, and Grimmjow was potentially immortal. His bitter laugh confirmed that thought.

"Last time someone tried to buy me, Aizen asked for three hundred golds." Grimmjow sounded sad and angry. "And that was after I lost my arm. Fucker." He growled and Shiro winced. But then he gave Grimmjow a determined look.

"I got some property. I'll get you outta here, I swear." He said but he could tell Grimmjow didn't believe him. Sighing to himself, he pulled away. "You need t'get started on dinner, don't ya?" He was sure it was about that time. Grimmjow grunted and pulled himself out of the bed.

"Yeah. It's actually pretty good, I got a deal on some pig trotters." He said and Shiro laughed. Once upon a time, he'd have looked down on pig's feet as a food for peasants. Now he knew they were delicious, filling and cheap. The stews Grimmjow made with them were among the best meals he served. "You'll like it, plenty of beans and carrots."

"Great!" Shiro was looking forward to it. After all his exertions, he was pretty hungry. He wished he could share a meal with Grimmjow, but that just couldn't be. He had far too many duties associated with meals to take time away from them.

The rest of the evening passed the way it usually did. Shiro got his bowl of stew and found, to his pleasure, that it was flavored with fermented fish sauce and a tiny bit of dried pepper. Not to mask the flavor of the ingredients, but to enhance them. The pig's feet were delicious, savory and filling. He chased the last of the beans around his bowl before finally finishing them with a sigh.

"You want seconds? I have some extra." Came the quiet offer and Shiro looked up, surprised. Then he realized that Grimmjow was carrying a large serving bowl and offering everyone seconds. Nodding, he pushed his bowl out. It was refilled halfway before being pushed back. Shiro ate it slowly, savoring every bite.

Things were going well, or at least as well as they could in this place.

* * *

Shiro hummed to himself as he brushed out his long white hair.

It was down past his shoulders now, thick and heavy. Grimmjow didn't want him to cut it. He said the customers loved it, which was true but not something Shiro cared about. Grimmjow himself loved it, though, and had said it made them a matching pair. The thought made Shiro smile as he curled a bit of hair around his fingers. His mane wasn't as long as Grimmjow's yet, but it was getting there.

He was spending more time out of his cage than any of the other slaves. Shiro knew that Grimmjow was giving him more trust. If he'd wanted to abuse that trust he might have had an opportunity to escape, but he couldn't. He just couldn't do that to him. He could only imagine how Aizen would punish Grimmjow for letting one of the slaves escape, let alone the pain the betrayal would cause.

Shiro sighed to himself, setting his comb aside. That was another reason slaves shouldn't get attached to each other. It made it harder to escape, when you had someone else to care for. A cold breeze flowed through the pens and he shivered, pulling his blanket around himself.

It was early winter now and things were starting to get chilly. Grimmjow did everything he could to make things comfortable for them, but the building was very old and had started as a barn. It always got cold in the winter. The big man handled it by giving them more blankets and even, in the coldest times, more clothes. It was slightly against Aizen's orders – he wanted their bodies displayed – but so far, Grimmjow had never been punished for it. Of course, Aizen was all about the money. Cold, sick whores made less than healthy ones.

The only downside, for Grimmjow, was that giving them more blankets gave them more ways to kill themselves. But when you got right down to it, they always could do that. The combs he allowed them would be enough. Shiro hadn't seen it, but apparently it happened. Sometimes a slave would give in to despair and decide that enough was enough. Grimmjow hated it, but the big man didn't believe in giving up.

"Shiro. Would you like to help me prepare lunch?" Grimmjow asked quietly and Shiro started, surprised. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd missed the blue man entering the pens.

"Um? Sure." Grimmjow usually didn't ask him for that and Shiro frowned slightly as he saw how run down the cat was looking. He looked very tired and drained. "Something wrong?" He asked as he was let out of his cell. Grimmjow shook his head.

"Just tired. It's autumn going into winter, I'm getting the urge to hibernate." He yawned and Shiro blinked, surprised. "I'm in tune with the seasons. That's what the wizards said, anyway."

"Why would a sidereal celestial be in tune with the seasons?" Shiro wondered. They were above all that. Grimmjow laughed.

"You got the wrong impression. I'm something _like_ a sidereal celestial, I'm not _actually_ a celestial." He yawned again and scratched his head before leading him to the kitchen. Shiro was flattered that Grimmjow would trust him there. There were plenty of knives and other things, he could likely hurt Grimmjow quite badly before the big man could stop him. "No one knows what I am." He said as he gripped a bag of potatoes, easily putting them beside a counter. "Peel those, please?"

"Sure." Shiro really didn't mind. Once, this would have been beneath his dignity, but even then he wouldn't have minded. He'd always been interested in cooking, it just hadn't been a fit hobby for a nobleman. A small, sharp knife was on the counter and he used it on the potatoes, gradually learning the best way to strip away the skins. As he worked he glanced around the kitchen, taking it in.

It really wasn't much. It was clean, immaculately clean, but it had clearly been designed with a single family and some farmhands in mind. Grimmjow was cooking for a dozen people and he had to make use of every inch of space. A huge kettle was bubbling in the hearth, a hearty stew that he'd been cooking yesterday. Shiro's nose twitched at the smell.

"That beef?" He asked. Grimmjow always tried to get them some meat, even if it was the cheapest cuts. The big man shook his head.

"Lamb. And it's only bones. I cracked them all to get the marrow out before I threw them in there." He explained and Shiro nodded. That made sense, bone marrow was very nutritious. "There's a few bacon scraps, too, but it's mostly going to be potatoes."

"Right." That would be filling and hearty, especially with the other vegetables Grimmjow was chopping up. He'd gotten hold of some celery and tomatoes, the last of the harvest. After this they would probably be using preserved. That would be fine, though. The prices would be good for a while so they would have plenty. There was also some heavy rye bread, meant to be dipped in the stew. Shiro cut up the bread, setting it on the cart as Grimmjow got everything in the stew. After that, they cleaned. There were always things to clean. "Where's that girl of yours?" Shiro asked curiously. He'd only seen the old slave a few times. Grimmjow grunted.

"Sick in bed. Autumn is hard on her, too. She's got creaky joints and catches any sickness going around." Shiro nodded sympathetically. He was too young to have such problems, of course, but he'd seen it before. "The vegetables should be soft by now. Want to help me bring it out?"

"Sure." Shiro said. It meant he ate last, but he didn't mind. Grimmjow always made plenty of food, even when it was dear. The only thing he disliked about being so obviously close to the big man were some of the other slaves. A few of the girls were very obviously jealous of him. No one would squeal to Aizen, though. They all hated him too much. Unfortunately, the wizard lord might find out anyway.

Shaking away that unsettling thought, Shiro help Grimmjow ladle out the soup. One girl, the black haired girl he'd been beside originally, gave him a foul look but everyone else took it in stride. Nel thanked him softly with her sweet, warming smile. It was a different smile than what she gave to the customers, more genuine and friendly.

"Nnoitra will be back in town soon." Grimmjow murmured as they were bringing the dishes back to the kitchen and Shiro grimaced. He wasn't looking forward to that. He didn't think the lanky man would forget him, and Grimmjow agreed. "Just remember my lessons and you'll be fine." The blue man had given him lessons specifically tailored to Nnoitra's tastes. The first, and biggest tip, was not to lube up. The first time he'd taken a whore here, he'd killed her and told Grimmjow it was because he couldn't rape her properly. Shiro wasn't looking forward to a violent rape but it couldn't be helped.

"Right." He said glumly as he stacked the dishes. Grimmjow brought him back to his cell after that. He didn't need help cleaning the dishes, and he didn't want Shiro's hands affected by the caustic chemicals. As he sat on his cot, he let his mind range over Grimmjow's tips.

_Nnoitra is very difficult, mostly because he's unpredictable. Nothing will keep you completely safe but I can help you avoid the obvious triggers. Don't look him in the eye, it's a challenge. Whimper and cry, but don't scream, he hates loud noises and will punish you more. Absolutely no snarling, no displays of defiance. He will take any excuse to hurt you, when he needs an excuse._ Shiro sighed and tried to remain calm. It was hard, knowing he would face someone so… unpredictable. Pain he'd gotten used to, but he'd learned to hate the unpredictable customers.

He needed to remember that a day later. Nnoitra was back and Grimmjow had no reason to refuse him this time. He seemed almost indifferent as he let the lanky man have him, but Shiro knew better. It was a pose, and a necessary one. Nnoitra was one of Aizen's business partners and if the wizard found out he meant something to Grimmjow…

"Well, my pretty little whore. Grimmjow says you're ready for me now." Nnoitra gripped his chin and Shiro managed not to flinch, staying pliant in the tall man's grip. He needed to be completely submissive. "Let's see how well he's been training you. Suck me off."

"Yes master." Shiro said obediently, shading his eyes with his long white lashes. Then he moved, unbuttoning the tall man's pants and freeing his length. To his surprise and slight distress, he was nearly as big as Grimmjow. Closing his eyes, he went to work. Grimm had told him Nnoitra wouldn't care if his eyes were open or not.

That was about the only mercy in a very unpleasant hour or so. When he was half-done the blowjob, Nnoitra forced him onto his stomach and took him without preparation or lube. Shiro gasped but didn't scream and let the tears fall. He could have suppressed them, could have held back his whimpers but those small hints of pain were what his rapist wanted. And he had to survive this, for Ichigo's sake… and for Grimmjow, too.

Everything seemed to be going well. Nnoitra growled filthy things at him but Shiro tuned him out, just waiting for the pain to be over. He couldn't block out the feelings, the sweat and the blood and the tears, but he could at least ignore what he was saying. Nnoitra spent himself inside him and Shiro lowered his head, wincing to himself at the dirty feeling inside. When Grimmjow came inside him, it felt good, but this didn't feel that way at all. Then a hard hand gripped his neck and Shiro gripped the blankets, a bolt of fear running through him as Nnoitra forced him onto his back, the grip tightening painfully.

"Fucking Grimmjow. You're trying to play me, just like the others." He growled, his remaining eye narrowed in rage. Shiro felt his mouth go dry. This was the most dangerous thing about Nnoitra, and something Grimmjow and the other whores had never found a solution to. It angered the tall man when he felt he was being manipulated, but the whores had to manipulate the customers. It was what they did, what they were hired for. Shiro squirmed and made a soft, pained sound, trying to sound sincere. Nnoitra cocked his fist back –

There was a knock on the door before it opened and they both looked up, surprised. Grimmjow was there, face cold and expressionless.

"Your time is up and another customer is asking for him." He said with deceptive calm. Shiro was sure he was tight with tension. Aizen's favorites could do no wrong, but Aizen did like money too. Grimmjow could be punished for interrupting Nnoitra's fun like this. The tall man frowned and pulled his hand away.

"Yeah? What customer?" He asked suspiciously and Grimmjow named a man Shiro had slept with many times before. A rather kindly, older merchant, he was one of the ones smart enough and caring enough to give gifts they could use. "He better be in the waiting room when I leave, bluebell. Or you'll be the one bent over next time." Nnoitra warned but Grimmjow's expression didn't even flicker.

"He is." He said with assurance and Nnoitra snarled one last time before doing up his pants and stalking out. Shiro let go of a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding as Grimmjow came to his side. "I have a salve that will help. " He said lowly and Shiro nodded. "Normally I wouldn't put you with a customer again so soon, but…" He shrugged and Shiro tilted his head to one side, curious.

"Is he really waiting out there?" He asked and Grimmjow nodded. "…Did he ask for me, or did you mention anythin' about a special rate…?" He knew how the blue man worked by now. Grimmjow flashed him a quick smile.

"There might have been a small discount." He admitted and Shiro relaxed. That was so like Grimm, trying to find a way to protect him. He'd probably realized something was wrong when Nnoitra went past his time. And the merchant wouldn't rat him out to Aizen. Merchants in general could keep secrets, and having Grimmjow's goodwill was far more valuable to him than the wizard. The blue man could make things here very comfortable for the people he liked.

The salve helped a bit with the pain in his rear, but Shiro was still sore when he took his next customer. Fortunately, the merchant was patient with him and more than willing to accept some alternatives to penetration. Shiro used all his skill, giving him a night to remember.

He was very thankful to get away from Nnoitra.


	6. Growing Emotions

Over the next few weeks, things got better.

Nnoitra called on him a few more times, but Shiro managed to survive it. Then the tall man seemed to lose interest, going back to his usual favorites. Although he wasn't a regular customer. Grimmjow had mentioned to him that Nnoitra was more into street whores, the sadder the better. He only came to the whorehouse sporadically, usually when the weather was foul.

The chill of winter gradually deepened and Grimmjow stopped taking them outside. Unless he issued them extra clothing, it would be asking for frostbite. And even when he did give them more to wear it would only include thick socks, not shoes. Going outside in the winter just wasn't practical.

Shiro spent most of his time sleeping or chatting a bit with Nel. She was willing to tell him a bit about her childhood, although he noticed she never said much about her family. It made him wonder how she'd ended up a slave. Had her family sold her into it? That didn't seem typical of elves, but there was evil in every race.

"Nel? I was wondering… how'd you end up here?" He finally asked. The tick tick of knitting needles stopped for a moment before Nel heaved a small sigh. She was smiling, though, when he glanced at her.

"I wondered when you would ask… I cannot go into details, but I violated a great taboo of my people. I barely escaped with my life." She said calmly and Shiro tilted his head curiously. "I was pregnant. The father of my child died in the flight, but I survived and made it to human territory. They could not continue pursuing me without violating the treaty, so I was safe from them but not safe. Bandits found me in the woods." She said and Shiro grimaced. When times were hard, ordinary people sometimes took up banditry just to survive. But when times were good, bandits were generally scum. He was pretty sure which type she'd found. "Their leader was a strong and ruthless man. His men would have raped and killed me, but he stopped them and told them they were fools. That a pregnant elf wandering the woods would have to be a criminal of some kind, and they could sell me with no fear of retribution. I didn't correct him… he was very close to right." Nel sounded sad at that. "So they took me to the nearest town and sold me to a merchant. Later, I was sold to Aizen."

"What happened to the kid?" Shiro asked and Nel gave him a small smile.

"I would rather not say." Was her calm response and Shiro internally cringed. Most likely she'd been forced to abort it. If not, the child would have been killed or sold.

"…It ain't right." Shiro whispered to himself as he lay back on his cot. Before he'd been sold into slavery he'd never really thought about it. Slavery was just part of life, something that happened. Now, though, it had far more bearing on him. And he was realizing that it just wasn't right.

There were basically four kinds of slaves. Bondlings were people who chose a kind of slavery, usually to work off a debt or clear away relatively minor charges. Their slavery had a set beginning and end. They were the rarest kind of slaves, though. Most people who went into debt slavery had bills that could never be paid, no matter how long they worked. And their young children would be taken and sold, too. Those slaves were enslaved for life, unless an owner freed them or they were bought out of it. Orihime had been one of those… her parents had been drunks and gamblers and she'd been sold along with them to pay their debts. Her older brother had already reached the age of majority so he'd been spared.

The third kind of slave was ones like himself. Technically, it was illegal to just kidnap people and sell them into slavery. In the real world, it happened all the time. The Kingdoms had no effective treaties so it was easy for bandits or enemies to take someone to another Kingdom and sell them. Bandits would sometimes raid villages, taking the most marketable villagers and killing the rest. It was dangerous, though. The army hung slavers or, if they were feeling nasty, sold them into slavery.

The fourth kind of slave was those who were born into it. They made up the vast majority of slaves. They formed a great underclass, doing all the jobs the 'free' would never do and giving their labour to the plantations and the mines. Special ones, like Grimmjow, could fetch very high prices. But on the whole, they were cheap and disposable.

Shiro had never really thought about it before. His family had estates but they didn't keep very many slaves. They did have some, though, and he'd never thought about what their lives were like. Maybe it wasn't too bad. In fact, it probably wasn't too bad, but they had no hope of ever bettering their situation. And if it was bad what in hell could they do about it? A slave could escape and make a run to another Kingdom, but the prospects for survival were grim. It was hard as hell, being a slave on the run.

"It's just the way the world is, is all." Starrk's sleepy mumble reached him and Shiro sighed. He knew the wolf was right. He knew it, but it still hurt to think about. It especially hurt to remember how oblivious he'd been, when he'd been a privileged child of nobility. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Grimmjow came to get him that night, after the customers had come and gone. Shiro was a bit surprised. Business had been brisk and he was sore, although not painful. Grimmjow normally never asked him for sex on nights like tonight.

"I know you're tired." The blue man said, answering his unspoken question as he brought him to his rooms. "But I can't sleep. Would you like to play plaques?" He asked and Shiro smiled widely.

"I'd love to." He wasn't a good player, but that didn't matter. He and Ichi had played plaques all the time in the summer, having fun by the river bank. And he would have plenty of time to catch up on his sleep, unlike Grimmjow. He didn't have a lot to do during the day. So they spent the night playing plaques. Shiro listened, fascinated, as Grimmjow caught him up on some of the local politics. He sometimes got a brew at the local pubs, when he had time, and heard more about what was happening than any of the slaves did.

"Everyone's upset with the mayor." He said as he placed a plaque on the game table. Shiro frowned. He was going to get surrounded at this rate. "He keeps raising the property taxes to fund his beautification efforts. I figure he'll be assassinated if he keeps this up."

"Um?" Shiro blinked at that. "Politics sound kind of bloodthirsty around here." He observed. Grimmjow laughed as he finally placed a plaque.

"You have no idea. The last mayor retired after a good term, though, so this one seems to have forgotten the cardinal rule… don't keep raising the fucking taxes." Grimmjow said, then sighed. "Of course, every time he does Aizen just expects me to make up the difference. I swear, I should kill the fucker myself." Shiro glanced up with a frown at the bitter tone.

"What happens if you don't make yer targets?" He asked as Grimmjow placed a tile. It was a good one and Shiro scowled. He was going to lose, he could tell, but he'd give Grimm a good fight.

"I get punished." The overseer said briefly and Shiro winced, remembering the whipping he'd witnessed. "I'd rather not talk about that… might have to hold a special party soon." He muttered and Shiro frowned, wondering what that meant. "That's when we play host to an orgy. We have some rooms for it."

"What! Really?" Shiro asked in shock then felt a bit of apprehension as Grimmjow nodded glumly. "Uh… how do you pick who does that?" He honestly wasn't keen on it. Grimmjow flashed him a quick grin.

"Draw lots. And I generally put Starrk to running the place and participate myself." Shiro looked at him disbelievingly and the blue man shrugged. "Makes it easier to keep an eye on things. Group events can easily get out of hand. Also, I seem to be a draw." He sounded weary and Shiro bit his lip before setting down his own tile. "You really suck at this."

"Oh shut up! You're not that good either. My uncle'd murder you at this." Shiro groused and Grimmjow laughed as he placed his tile. Shiro sighed and set his hand over his side of the board. "I yield. Want to go again?" Maybe he would get a better tile draw next time. There was skill involved but also luck. Grimmjow shrugged.

"Sure." They played another round, but then Grimmjow was feeling tired and Shiro was more than willing to go to bed. They did share one slow, tender kiss before Grimmjow brought him back to his cell. Shiro smiled to himself as he curled up under the warm blankets. His dreams were haunted with memories of playing plaques on the banks of the river, but instead of familiar orange his partner's hair was blue.

* * *

Shiro groaned as he looked at the short matchstick in his hand. Grimmjow gave him an amused grin.

"Looks like you're it." He said, amused, and Shiro growled before throwing the match at him. "Hey now." Grimmjow fluffed the bit of wood out of his hair before grinning again. "It won't be that bad."

"Oh, bugger off." Shiro growled and Grimmjow laughed before leaving to put the girls to the test. He needed a balance of the sexes, so they were drawing lots separately. Although for the girls, Grimmjow had already asked Nel if she was willing. Nelliel's aura of peace was always good for things like this, apparently. She'd consented, so they would only be drawing for two of the women. Shiro watched as Grimmjow brought the straws to the girls, and grimaced as he realized one of the two would be Loly.

He honestly didn't like Loly much. They weren't close together so he couldn't speak to her, but Nel knew everyone since she treated their injuries. So he knew that Loly was the black haired girl he'd been next to originally, the one who gave him nasty looks whenever he was obviously close to Grimmjow. And it wasn't because she thought he was a suck up or sellout, either. No, according to Nel she had a massive crush on Grimm and didn't even like it when he was raping a new slave into submission. Shiro thought that was sort of nauseating.

He couldn't see who the other was and decided he didn't care. Lying back on his cot he tried to get some sleep. The party wasn't even scheduled yet, he'd have plenty of time to prepare for it.

As it turned out, Grimmjow set the party for two weeks in the future. That gave him plenty of time to drum up business. In the end, they had five customers who wanted in on the festivities. Grimmjow was charging a premium for it, which would give the whorehouse a needed shot of cash. The weather had turned particularly foul, so bad Grimmjow had issued them additional clothing and it was actually affecting their revenues. Faced with the thought of going outside in this kind of weather, a lot of the customers decided they could just stay home and wank. Aizen made no allowances for that so they needed to make money desperately.

There was one huge upside to business being down, though. Shiro was middling-popular among Grimmjow's stable of prostitutes. He wasn't at the very top like Nel, but he wasn't near the bottom either. That was an okay place to be, although the top might have been better. Nel wouldn't say much about it but Shiro had heard a few whispers about Aizen's parties. The whores lived in dread of being picked for one and no one was completely immune except the top earners. But with business being down, Shiro was requested less often and he got to spend the night with Grimm more and more.

"I really think I might love you." Shiro's eyes opened as he heard that quiet whisper in his ear. He was in Grimmjow's bed, curled up beside the big man. Clawed fingers were gently tracing his skin, delicately soothing overheated flesh. Shiro rolled his hip into that touch, curling up more tightly beside his lover as a blast of wind hit the window, rattling the blinds.

"Grimm." He whispered and their lips met, a kiss that was achingly gentle and loving. "Mmm." He sighed in contentment as his lover stroked his hair. It was long now, flowing beautifully down his back. Grimmjow had actually trimmed it a bit a few days ago, giving it a bit of shape and style. Then warm lips began exploring his throat and Shiro blinked. "I'm kinda sore Grimm." Of course, Grimmjow would know that. He'd had a few customers, not many and easy, but he'd made love to Grimm twice today. The blue man chuckled softly.

"I know. I was thinking… I might like to let you inside me." He said and Shiro's breath caught in his throat. They'd done it before, but only as part of his training. He looked into blue eyes, seeing pain but also warmth and desire.

"Ya sure?" He knew how hard that was for Grimmjow. Well, not hard exactly. The blue man reacted with the ease of a lifetime of training, but it was clear he'd suffered too much pain over the years. His eyes always echoed with that pain, to someone who was looking for it. Shiro was sure the customers never noticed.

"I'm sure. You're special to me." Grimmjow said and Shiro smiled. Special… that made him feel, well, special. Warm hands were on him then and Shiro reciprocated, sliding white hands over warm, tanned skin. Then Grimmjow's face dipped down and Shiro gasped as a warm mouth fastened over one of his nipples, exploring the sensitive skin with a slightly rough tongue.

"Grimm, shit that feels good…" Shiro moaned as he slid his hands through Grimmjow's hair before gripping the back of his neck, wordlessly urging the blue man on. "Let me…" He gasped out and Grimmjow pulled away with a smile. He knew what Shiro wanted.

"Be my guest." He purred and Shiro took the invitation, exploring the handsome body with his hands and tongue as he pushed the other on his back. Grimmjow grunted as he teased his nipples, returning the attention the blue man had lavished on him. Resting a hand on his belly, Shiro could feel his lover's erection pressing against his leg. This was getting them both very turned on.

The lube was beside them, a small jar they kept on the bed stand. Shiro coated his fingers in it before running his fingers over Grimmjow's taunt flesh, watching his face. The look of bliss there, the hot desire in those half-closed blue eyes made him want to take the other man right then and there. But rough sex was not on the table. They never treated each other roughly, not now. For Shiro it would bring up ugly memories of his first week here, and for Grimmjow it would bring up decades of mistreatment. They were always gentle with each other.

Sliding a finger inside, Shiro lowered his face and took Grimm in his mouth. The hot flesh tasted good, almost minty as he began easing open the other man. One finger wasn't hard so he quickly upped it to two, exploring that wet heat and trying to find Grimmjow's prostate. He knew when he had as the big man jerked and growled, a sound that spoke of desire rather than pain. A third finger joined the first two and there was a soft whine from his partner.

"God, Shiro, you're killing me. Take me, please." Grimmjow begged softly and Shiro let go of his erection with a soft pop, looking up into his face. The pain was still there, but it was almost buried under the hot desire. That was as good as it got and Shiro nodded as he gripped Grimmjow's thighs, easing himself into that clutching warmth.

Shiro was left gasping at how good it felt. He loved being taken by Grimmjow, loved the feeling of that huge cock abusing his body in the best ways, but this was amazing. He knew it was partly Grimmjow's healing factors at work. No matter how many times he had sex, how badly he was hurt, he always came back to feeling virgin tight. But most of it was just the knowledge that Grimmjow was allowing this, that the man he loved was letting him inside him. Shiro eased out before smoothly thrusting back in, looking into Grimmjow's face for any sign of pain.

What he saw was lust. Naked desire and also an intensity that took his breath away. Shiro gave himself over to the feeling then, taking his partner with a rhythm that started slow and gentle but quickly speeded up. Grimmjow arched slightly, exposing his throat and Shiro took the silent offer, sucking and nipping the exposed skin. He left behind red marks that instantly vanished, taken care of with natural healing. Shiro didn't mind. It just meant more beautiful, pristine skin to explore.

"God you feel so good." He moaned softly in one catlike ear, gasping as a human hand grasped his ass and gave him a squeeze. Grimmjow's clawed hand was running over his back, gentle as a dream. He didn't heal like the blue man and the overseer didn't want to leave any marks.

"Shiro, ah, shit…" Grimmjow gripped his hips with both hands and that was all the warning Shiro had before the cat suddenly switched their positions. He found himself under Grimmjow and the overseer reared back, riding him with a wicked grin. Shiro gasped as Grimmjow pulled himself up then pushed back down, moving fast and hard. He matched every move as his lover rode him, reaching down to grasp Grimmjow's neglected erection. The hot flesh was stiff yet smooth as velvet, just like the first time. Shiro wrapped his hand around it, working Grimmjow to completion even as his own body sang.

He couldn't have guessed how long it took before sparks flew. Shiro only knew that Grimmjow came a moment after him, filling his hand and coating his belly with creamy cum. The blue man bent down for a moment, resting his head on Shiro's chest and he ran a hand through wild blue hair, feeling the silky strands. Then Grimmjow slowly pulled away. He looked exhausted and sated and Shiro felt much the same way.

"I wish you could stay, but…" Grimmjow said in a low voice and Shiro nodded. They'd already had this discussion. Aizen loved to come early when he was going to punish Grimmjow, often so early he woke the blue man from his sleep. If he found them together he would include Shiro in the punishment, guaranteed. It wasn't worth the risk.

"I know." Shiro yawned before glancing out the window. It was getting late. He slid out of the bed, tidying himself up a bit before putting on his clothes. It was the heavier winter clothing now, heavily darned and patched wool. When he'd been a noble he wouldn't have considered it fit for anything but rags, but now it kept him warm. When a customer picked one of them they had to quickly get rid of the clothing, enduring the cold for the time it took to reach the magically heated rooms with their heavy blankets. Grimmjow brought him back to his cell and they shared a warm, loving kiss before Shiro settled into his blankets.

If there were any dreams he didn't remember them the next day.

* * *

"Party time." Shiro muttered to himself. He was ready for this. That was what he kept telling himself, anyway.

The party room was a larger room, furnished with just this sort of thing in mind. The flooring was plush carpet, gentle on the skin and the furnishings were large, soft pillows. The whole place was heated, again with magic. The customers didn't expect to freeze their butts off, not in a classy whorehouse and with Aizen to supply it the magic was free. To Shiro's faint surprise, one of the customers tonight was a woman. He wondered if she was taken with Grimmjow. Most of the women who came to this place were old fans from his gladiator days and Grimmjow was willing to accept their money. Shiro grinned to himself as he thought about it. Grimmjow had confided in him that he'd never had the heart to refuse any of his female admirers. 'You are so unpleasant in bed I won't even take money for it' just didn't work well with the women.

For now, though, he had a job to do. Shiro gracefully accepted the first man to approach him, keeping an eye on Grimmjow. In some ways, Grimm would be the director of this circus, keeping things flowing easily. He was a master at making everything seem natural and spontaneous. He nodded towards one corner of the room and Shiro understood, gently tugging his partner to that spot. As he did, Loly joined him, pressing her breasts against the customer and giggling.

Business was bad so Grimmjow had added a few more of the whores, giving these customers their money's worth. Shiro almost enjoyed the night, surrounded by the sounds of pleasure, dim romantic lighting and the warm heat of the room. After a while it all seemed to melt together in a long dose of slow, orgasmic pleasure. The only thing about it he didn't like was the fact that it wasn't Grimmjow. His lover was busy with the woman of the group, just as he'd suspected. That bothered him a bit, but only a bit. Fidelity was a laughable concept, with the things they did to survive.

When it was over they bid the customers goodbye, and Grimmjow brought them towels and buckets of warm water to get cleaned off. That felt good too and Shiro enjoyed it as he scrubbed. Grimmjow made them take a full bath once a week, and smaller cleanings happened daily. This wasn't a full bath but it was still nice. Wrapping himself back in his clothes, Shiro waited patiently as Grimmjow began taking them back to their cells one by one. The big man never overlooked the fact that they were slaves and would gladly escape if he gave them a chance. The only exceptions were Shiro, Starrk and Nel. They were the only ones who wouldn't escape although for widely different reasons.

He was the last to go and he went with Nel. The elf woman was yawning as she slid into her bed and Shiro was about to go into his cell when Grimmjow's grip on his arm stopped him. Looking at the blue man curiously he saw a strange look on his face, something he'd never seen before.

"You liked that?" He asked and his voice was curiously neutral. Shiro frowned, trying to figure out what he was asking. It seemed like an odd question.

"A little. I mean, I've had a lot worse and it was all kind of nice." He said truthfully. An orgy wasn't really to his taste but he could definitely see why people liked it. Sure, the customers hadn't been that attractive but it hardly seemed to matter with the mood in the air. "D'you like that girl you were with?" He suddenly asked then looked away with a blush. That question… was he jealous? Then he blinked as something occurred to him. Was Grimmjow jealous? Was that why he'd brought this up? There was a warm chuckle from the big man and Shiro blushed again as clawed fingers gripped his chin, gently tilting his face up.

"She was fine, but she wasn't you." That response warmed him to his toes and Shiro smiled as Grimmjow kissed him, slow and loving. "Goodnight Shiro."

"Goodnight Grimm." Smiling to himself, Shiro went to bed. This time he did dream… dreams about the orgy, but this time his partner was a blue haired man.

It was a beautiful dream.


	7. Gin's Story

Shiro shivered in his nest of blankets, but it wasn't due to the cold.

Breakfast was late and it wasn't exactly a surprise. Grimmjow had let him know that despite all his efforts, he'd missed his targets. Not by much, but that wouldn't cut any ice with Aizen. These past few weeks had been tense, with Shiro struggling to comfort his lover. The waiting had been winding up his nerves, making him quick to snap at any irritation.

The wait was over now and Shiro bit his lip, wondering what was happening to Grimmjow. They couldn't hear anything but that was no surprise. The place had good soundproofing, and the basement was cut into solid stone. Sitting up, he began his morning exercises. Moving would help take his mind off what was happening.

Perhaps an hour later Gin came by to get Starrk and Nel out of their cells. Shiro watched but didn't say anything. He wanted to demand he be allowed to go with them, but that would just be stupid. He had to wait until Aizen and Gin were safely gone before he could see what had happened to Grimm. Time seemed to pass all too slowly, but Starrk finally came to get him.

"He's asking for you." The lupine said and Shiro swallowed at the quiet grief in his voice, the sadness in his face. "He's not in very good condition. Don't touch him." Starrk cautioned and Shiro nodded. Starrk led him out, taking him to Grimmjow's rooms.

Grimmjow was lying on his bed, on his stomach, when he arrived. Nel was there, gently stroking his hair and singing a soft, elven song. Shiro couldn't understand a word of it but it was very soothing. Grimmjow's back and real arm were covered in livid bruises, so deep they were black and red and only healing slowly. Strangely, his human arm was completely untouched. Shiro knelt down beside the bed, reaching out before remembering Starrk's warning and pulling his hand back.

"Grimm? You okay?" He asked instead and Grimmjow's head turned, his eyes opening. Shiro swallowed at the look on his face, the pain in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

"I'll live." He said, his voice quiet and faded. He closed his eyes for a moment and Shiro dared to reach out, gently touching his crown of bone. Grimmjow opened his eyes again and black and gold met blue for a moment before Grimmjow lifted his human hand, wincing as even that small movement aggravated his injuries. Shiro quickly took his hand, giving him a comforting squeeze.

"…What happened…?" He asked, glancing at Nel. But she looked away, the pain on her face almost as bad as Grimm's.

"Yammy." Grimmjow whispered and Shiro frowned. Where had he heard that name before? "He's some kind of giant hybrid. No human can survive him." That made him remember and Shiro swallowed. _I'll bring Yammy for your next punishment and let him have the boy, too._ "He's too big. Horrible way to die… I can make it, but just barely. Shit this hurts." Grimmjow closed his eyes, his face tightening in a way that made Shiro want to hug him and comfort him. But he couldn't, any touches now would bring the blue man agonizing pain. A tear ran down his face and Shiro gently wiped it away, carefully avoiding a brutal bruise on his cheek and neck. "I just want to be left alone. Is it too much to ask?" The broken sound of that question made his heart hurt and Shiro gently laid a kiss on the bone. It felt warm and alive under his lips.

"I'm here for you Grimm. We'll get through this." He said softly and Grimmjow gave a very small nod. Nel began singing her song again and they both stayed with him, watching as the bruises on his back slowly faded. It was taking much longer than it should, and Shiro had a good idea of why. Grimmjow's internal injuries were far more pressing and were taking most of his strength, along with Nel's healing. There was a blanket over his lower body and Shiro didn't want to see what was beneath it.

He had enough nightmares already.

* * *

A few weeks later, Shiro was rudely woken from his rest by a scream.

"What the fuck?" He shoved the blankets off and went to the front of his cell, trying to see what was going on. The other slaves were all stirring with confused murmurs and several others were in position to see what was wrong. Shiro swallowed as a loud voice rose over the others.

"It's Marianna, she hung herself." A male voice said and Shiro winced as he heard female sobbing. No doubt that was from the girl beside the dead girl. He heard a door open and looked up as Grimmjow quickly walked through the cells. The blue man cursed quietly as he realized what had happened. Shiro couldn't see what he was doing, but he could guess. He would be laying out the body then comforting the nearby slaves as best he could. Suicide had a way of spreading, sometimes, and he didn't want that.

"Oh dear." Nel sounded sad but not surprised and Shiro looked at her. She saw his expression and explained. "She was nearly thirty-five. That's very old for one of us… Grimmjow had used clever makeup and my healing to extend things, but he would have had to sell her soon. Aizen insists he get the best price, so she would have gone to auction and been bought by a lesser whorehouse. It's a downward spiral after that." Nel said sadly and Shiro swallowed. He could imagine that. "If only Aizen let Grimmjow sell us the way he likes, he would sell us cheaply for tavern help or laundresses."

"It would be safer. I'm lucky that my kind don't show our age." Starrk said and Shiro glanced over to see the wolf was wide awake. Lilynette was sniffling quietly on the other side of him. Starrk glanced at him and there was an odd, almost warning tone in his voice. "He'll have to get a new girl now."

"…Oh." Shiro said, not liking the implications one bit. That meant Grimmjow would be spending his time with someone else, training her the way he'd been trained. He only hoped whatever girl the blue man picked wasn't a fighter. He didn't know exactly how that affected Grimmjow, but he'd seen the kind, compassionate side of the man. Shiro didn't think that Grimm enjoyed rape, and that had to twist him inside. But maybe they would be lucky and it would be another girl like Orihime, sweet and pliant. Then Grimmjow went by, carrying the body. She was muffled in a thin sheet and all Shiro could see was her slender form. "…" He bit his lip, wondering if that could be him someday. If Ichigo didn't come for him, it could be.

That thought disturbed him because it was becoming more and more possible. It was taking so long for Ichigo to find him. Had something happened to Ichi? Shiro wasn't sure he could bear it, if that had happened. He loved his cousin so much, they were like brothers. Although he would have Grimmjow to keep him grounded. But the thought of living here for decades… Shiro frowned. How would his aging go? The priests and wizards who had examined him had thought he would live a human lifespan, but would he show his age or would he keep looking young like Starrk?

He wouldn't know until it happened and Shiro pushed the thought away, beginning his morning exercise routine. Breakfast would be out soon so there was really no point in trying to get back to sleep. He doubted he could anyway.

That had been a rude wakeup call.

* * *

Shiro watched grimly as Grimmjow dragged the sobbing girl back to her cell, throwing her in roughly. He couldn't see the blue man's face from his cell but he knew the look that would be there, the words he would use on the girl. _Stop making me do this to you. Give in and do what you're told. You're a slave now, act like one._

It was painful to watch, and it was especially painful that Grimmjow hadn't taken him out of his cell for special time for the past three days. Shiro didn't know why. He couldn't even begin to guess what was going on behind those cold, remote blue eyes. Grimmjow just seemed stern and out of reach now, impossible to touch. Yet, Shiro thought he had to do something. He couldn't just let it go on like this.

"Hey." He said that night when Grimmjow delivered his supper. The blue man looked at him sharply, expression wary. His ears were slightly flattened back, too. "D'you want to play plaques?" Shiro asked quietly, staring into hard blue eyes. Grimmjow blinked and a tiny bit of warmth and humanity seemed to come back to those orbs.

"Yeah, sure." He said but his voice sounded far too tense. Shiro sighed to himself before picking up his comb and brushing out his hair, preparing himself for the customers. The weather had gotten better and midwinter feast was coming. They would be busy tonight.

By the time he was done servicing the customers it was very late, but Grimmjow took him out anyway. He could always sleep in. Shiro settled in across from Grimmjow as he set up the gameboard. For a while, they played in silence but Shiro could feel the tension building, see the frown on Grimmjow's face as he played his pieces. His game was off, too. Shiro thought he might actually win.

"I didn't know it would be like this." Grimmjow suddenly said, almost glaring at the board.

"I wasn't asking." Shiro said quietly, hoping Grimmjow would lose a bit of his tension. He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"You were wondering. Why wouldn't you?" He said before making his move and Shiro almost winced. It was a bad play, giving him a very good opening. "…I thought I'd get the experienced whores." He said, his voice softer and Shiro looked up to see him gazing at the board with a pained, pinched look on his face. "I thought it would be ones like me. There's always child whores aging out… they know the score, know how it works. You learn to be sly, manipulative, hard to break." His voice was so soft now that Shiro had to struggle to hear him. Then he suddenly raised it, anger in his tone. "But no. Aizen wants the whores here 'fresh'… not 'used goods.'" Grimmjow spat out the words and Shiro grimaced, understanding what he was feeling. Grimmjow considered himself to be 'used goods.' "I didn't know what the fuck to do, the first time I got one who fought me. Aizen sent me a 'breaker' to teach me… fuck. I can't do it the way he could." Grimmjow muttered before taking his move. Shiro considered the board for a moment, not really seeing it as he listened. "He could use his words, tell the girls and boys they were dirty trash and get them to really believe it, you know? Disgusting… all I have is my body and I hate it. I hate this shit!" He almost roared the words, standing up from the table. His clawed hand dug into the wood and Shiro met burning blue eyes, struggling not to flinch away. It was about the hardest thing he'd ever done but he could tell Grimmjow's temper was dangerously frayed.

"I know Grimm. I wouldn't love you if you liked doin' things like that." Shiro said, putting all the sincerity he could in his eyes and voice. He meant it, he really did. Grimmjow stared at him for a long moment before calming slightly, the wildness going out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Sorry." Grimmjow said before glancing around. "Would you like some tea?" Shiro nodded and he went to make it. It was nothing but dried herbs but it would be welcome and soothing. There was a kettle of hot water over the coals so it didn't take long to make. Grimmjow sat down, sipping his tea for a moment before he looked over the board. "…Shit, what have I been doing?" He asked as Shiro laughed.

"Losing, big time." He said teasingly and Grimmjow sighed in disgust before glancing over his tiles. He made the best move he could, but Shiro knew he had the big man this time. There was no way he was going to recover from his earlier mistakes.

He was right. It took a while, but Grimmjow finally gave up, closing his hands over his tiles to signal defeat. By that time it was quite late and Grimmjow took him back to his cell. But he paused outside the door before hugging him for a moment. Shiro put his arms around the overseer as Grimmjow buried his face in his hair, taking in his scent. It seemed absurd, that the man doing the raping would need comfort, but he did.

"I don't deserve you." He muttered and Shiro grinned.

"Nah, ya don't." He agreed and Grimmjow pulled away, his blue eyes wide with surprise. Shiro gave him a gentle, loving kiss. "But I love you anyway." He added and his lover's eyes warmed before he chuckled, a soft rumble. Shiro was pleased to see that he was definitely feeling better. He went to his cot and settled down to sleep as Grimmjow relocked the door.

His dreams were pleasant and formless, reminding him of fairy wings.

* * *

"Oh, Shiro-chan." Shiro sat bolt upright, ice going down his spine at that voice. It was Gin. He stared out at the man, dread in every line of his body. But then he saw that Grimmjow was also there, standing beside him and he relaxed a little. "Oi! So scared of l'il ol' me? I'm not that scary, am I Grimm?"

"No, you're just a sweet little rabid fox." Grimmjow said then winced as Gin gripped one of his ears and tugged on it. Shiro stared at them with a frown, wondering at the body language. He would have expected Grimmjow to hate Gin. The fox faced man had broken his arm and whipped him half to death, and apparently it had been a normal punishment. But Grimmjow seemed to be regarding him with amused tolerance.

"Leave out that rabid or I'll haveta bite you." Gin advised and Grimmjow chuckled. "Can I have him for the night?" He asked a touch wistfully, gazing at Shiro with an almost hopeful air.

"The whole night? Aizen must be happy with you. And I don't see any reason why not." Grimmjow said easily and Shiro forced himself to relax. If Gin were dangerous, Grimm would have given him warnings. He knew all the dangerous customers and Gin hadn't been mentioned once. Grimmjow opened the cell door and Shiro went with them, starting to feel a bit curious about this. What was Gin's story?

"So Grimmjow says you play a terrible game of plaques." Gin said cheerfully when they were alone and Shiro couldn't help but bristle.

"Hoi! I beat him last time." He grumbled, refusing to reflect on the fact that Grimmjow had been completely out of sorts. "Do you want to play?" There was a board set in a corner. Gin laughed and nodded and Shiro busied himself putting it out as Gin cracked open a bottle of alcohol, pouring them both small glasses. Then he got out a very tiny vial of something else and that put Shiro on guard. "What's that?" He asked suspiciously as Gin added a very tiny amount to both glasses.

"Oh, it's sorta a love potion. I'm gonna take it too, ain't nothin' wrong with it." Gin assured him and Shiro frowned at the glass. "It's like alcohol but a bit more, if you know what I mean." He didn't, but it sounded interesting. He slowly took a sip and blinked at the flavor. There was a taste of honey to it that sweetened the alcohol nicely.

Whatever it was, it did seem to make the evening go smoother. Shiro found himself genuinely enjoying the game, as well as Gin's witty comments. When the fox faced man opened them, his eyes were a beautiful light blue.

"Why do you keep your eyes closed most of the time?" Shiro asked, feeling a bit giddy as he finished his glass of liquor. Gin refilled it with a smile.

"So people can't see what I'm thinkin'. Eyes are windows to the soul, y'see?" Gin said lightly and Shiro thought there was more to it, but didn't pursue it. He sipped the new glass, gazing at the board before making a move. "Ouch! Y'really are bad at this." Gin said merrily before taking a rather important tile. Shiro winced.

"You're getting me drunk." He grumped, giving Gin his best pout. The fox faced man laughed.

"Oh, thas cute! Mind callin' this? I want t' feel you." That sent a heady warmth through Shiro's body and he found he was feeling honest desire for the other man. It felt a bit wrong, lusting after someone who wasn't Grimmjow, but only a bit. He had no choice anyway so there was no point in refusing to take pleasure when he could. Grimmjow certainly wouldn't mind. Shiro finished the glass, swallowing it quickly and gasping softly as the liquid seemed to go straight to his head. "Wouldn't want ya t' fall asleep during. Y'haven't had much experience, have ya?" Gin asked, mildly concerned, and Shiro shook his head.

"No, but I'll be fine." He felt warm and happy but not close to passing out. He stood up and managed to keep his balance just fine. "Grimm's taught me a lot. Let me show you." He said, putting heat into his voice as he gripped Gin's shirt, giving him an inviting look. The foxy man took the invitation with a smile, pulling him towards the bed. His skimpy garments were quickly stripped away and Gin paused to admire him, running his hands over rippling abs.

"He has been teaching you a lot, hasn't he? He knows all th' tricks." Gin said approvingly and Shiro watched curiously as the other man disrobed. Gin was more wiry than Grimmjow, much like himself in fact. But he was every bit as hard and toned. "Y'look great." Gin murmured before beginning his explorations in earnest.

Shiro felt like he was melting as warm hands roved over his body, finding all of his sensitive spots. The alcohol and the love potion – drug? – he'd taken were going to his head, and everything felt soft and oh so pleasurable. Although even in the midst of the gentle lovemaking – and it was lovemaking, not rough sex – Shiro noticed something odd. The way Gin was handling him, the skill in his hands… it reminded him of Grimmjow, somehow. This was the way Grimm moved, the way he did things.

"Grimmjow." He moaned as Gin kissed his throat, vaguely aware that that was a bad thing to do. No one was supposed to know how he felt about the overseer and saying another person's name with a customer was just stupid. Whores had been beaten for that before. But Gin just chuckled and whispered in his ear.

"Rangiku." He said the name lovingly and Shiro responded to the tone, his body pliant and accepting as Gin took him slowly, sensuously. Shiro gasped as a thick, hot length rubbed teasingly against his prostate. He looked at Gin through his lashes and kissed the man, mutely begging him for more. There was another chuckle and Gin began to speed his thrusts, the head of his shaft easily finding Shiro's prostate. The pale half-demon gasped, his eyes going wide at the intense stimulation. It felt amazingly good…

Shiro lost his mind then, giving himself over to the pleasure. He was vaguely aware of himself babbling disconnected things, and Grimmjow's name was part of it. But Gin was murmuring endearments to Rangiku so it had to be fine. Right? His mind was too hazy to care. The feelings reached a fever pitch and Shiro cried out, his insides clamping down hard as he found a mind numbingly powerful orgasm. It seemed like he came forever, and he hardly felt Gin cum too, filling him with hot fluids. They stayed together for a moment afterwards, trying to catch their breath before Gin gently kissed him on the temple.

"Ah, Shiro-chan. You're so beautiful." The fox-faced man whispered as Shiro nuzzled him weakly. He felt so tired… so very tired. "Don' feel bad about holdin' a candle for Grimm. A lot of people do, y'know." There was a teasing note to his voice but Shiro was too exhausted to think about what it might mean.

"Mmm… I should go… back to my cell…?" He said groggily. Wasn't he supposed to go back? They couldn't let Aizen catch them… no wait, that was with Grimm. Gin's chuckle recalled his wandering mind to reality.

"Nah, we have the whole night. Just sleep Shiro-chan, you need it." He advised and Shiro decided to take it. He curled up beside the customer who had brought him such unexpected pleasure and let himself drift away.

He'd let himself worry about it tomorrow.

* * *

The next day Shiro felt wonderful but unsettled.

His body felt great. Whatever that stuff was that Gin had given him, it didn't act like alcohol. He'd slept like the dead and woken fully refreshed and energized. But with a great night's sleep behind him he'd realized how many things he'd done wrong.

Saying Grimmjow's name during sex had been idiotic. And the stuff he'd babbled after that… Shiro bit his lip. He couldn't remember what he'd said but it had been too much. Gin had said something about holding a candle, though. So maybe he hadn't taken it seriously? Shiro was sure that Gin was highly intelligent, though. That did not make him feel good about this.

"Something wrong?" He started at the voice and turned to look at Starrk. The wolf was doing a few exercises. Not even Starrk could sleep all the time, although he was willing to try.

"Just something I need to talk to Grimm about." He answered and Starrk shrugged. Shiro just didn't want to explain it to him, though. He wanted to see if he was worrying about nothing and only Grimmjow could tell him.

"Grimm, can we talk when you've got a moment?" He asked the overseer at the first opportunity, which was lunch. He'd slept through breakfast. Grimmjow paused for a moment then nodded.

"As soon as I'm done the dishes." He said and Shiro nodded. A while later, the blue man fetched him out of his cell and brought him to his room. "What's wrong? You seem unnerved." He asked and Shiro bit his lip.

"Grimm… I think I said too much last night. Gin gave me this stuff, I don't know what it was…" He said haltingly and the blue man nodded.

"A little glass vial? That's aphodistia. It's a mild aphrodisiac and stimulant. It reacts well with alcohol. Not exactly cheap and habit forming, Gin's been using it for a while." Grimmjow said with the ease of long experience and Shiro blinked. Although it made sense that he'd be familiar with drugs. No doubt he'd experienced plenty of them. "You said my name, right?" He nodded hesitantly and Grimmjow laughed. "Don't worry. People will say all kinds of things under that drug. Gin won't think anything of it."

"Oh." Shiro felt a moment of intense relief. But then it turned into curiosity. "Grimm? What's Gin's story, do you know?" He asked and Grimmjow frowned before letting out a small sigh.

"It's not a good story." He said briefly and Shiro looked at him intently, willing him to speak. "Ah, fine… he was bought about the same time I was, for the same purpose. We were friends, we depended on each other a lot. A girl was bought about that time too, she was named Rangiku. Aizen doesn't like women at all – he's into little boys – so she was just a maid. She wasn't really a mother figure but she looked after us. Gin was fond of her." Grimmjow said and Shiro bit his lip. He was sure there was going to be tragedy in this. "Something happened to her. I'm not sure what, Gin never really told me… but after she was gone he devoted himself to revenge. And he's smart, a hell of a lot smarter than me. He got this close to killing Aizen." Grimmjow held his thumb and finger together as Shiro's eyes went wide. Kill an archmage? Unless you were another archmage, that was a tall order. And a child had managed it? "If his aim had been just a bit better, or if Aizen hadn't had that potion… well, he did. The bastard was pissed and he put a special geas on Gin. It's not his body that's enslaved, it's his mind." Grimmjow sounded like he pitied the fox faced man and Shiro felt appalled. He'd never heard of a geas like that. "He feels pleasure when Aizen feels pleasure, and when Aizen's angry with him he feels unimaginable pain. He adores Aizen now, he knows it's not right but he can't stop it." Grimmjow shook his head and Shiro swallowed.

"Oh." That sounded absolutely horrible. "I feel bad for him now." That explained a lot about Gin. Grimmjow nodded, his blue eyes full of a quiet grief.

"Yeah, me too. I miss the old Gin." He said sadly before shrugging. "Nothing anyone can do about it. Would you mind helping me fix some of the shutters? I could use someone to hold them while I nail them in place." Shiro nodded. Grimmjow did all the basic maintenance on the place and sometimes, having an extra pair of hands helped him. He didn't mind being useful.

It would take his mind off the thought of a geas that could steal even the mind away.


	8. Soiled

Shiro smiled as he watched Grimmjow going from cell to cell, passing them little packages. They were wrapped only in brown paper, but the slaves still tore into them, eager to see what they would be getting.

It was Midwinter feast. The one day of the year they had off, because it was mandated by the state. Every business was closed, including the whorehouses. That meant a special celebration, and Grimmjow used what little he could save of his wages to buy them gifts.

"Oh, thank you kitten!" Nel said happily as she held two balls of very nice yarn. "I'll make you a scarf." She promised and Grimm chuckled. "Or if you can get me more, a sweater!"

"I might take you up on that. The weather's been shitty this year." Grimmjow said with a smile before going on to Shiro. He offered him the gift with an almost shy smile and Shiro took it, quickly opening it. He smiled as he lifted it out.

"Aw, thanks!" It was a necklace, but not a piece of fine jewelry like the bracelet. A bit of leather strung with black and white glass beads, it clearly hadn't cost much. But it was a gift from Grimmjow and Shiro put it on, enjoying how the beads felt against his skin. "It's beautiful." He said before giving his lover a gentle kiss. Grimmjow returned the affection, cuddling him for a moment.

"Hey, I want my gift so I can go back to sleep." Starrk complained and they parted, giving the wolf identical disgusted looks. "What? I'm tired."

"I wonder if you'll even stay awake long enough to eat it." Grimmjow said grumpily before reluctantly leaving and giving Starrk his gift. Shiro smiled as he saw it was candied ginger. Starrk loved candied ginger and it was cheap enough that he could often get a bit of it out of Grimmjow. This was a nice big bag, though, and the wolf managed to stay awake long enough to try it. Shiro laughed at Lilynette's happy squeal at her gift, seeing she had beef jerky sticks. Those were her treat of choice.

The rest of the day only got better from there. Grimmjow served them humble pie, a traditional food but not one that Shiro usually had. It was called 'humble' because it was made from the cast off bits of the deer, things like the heart and kidney's, while the nobles ate the venison. Until this year Shiro'd enjoyed the roasted venison but he found the pie was almost as good. Especially the way Grimmjow made it, filled with winter stored vegetables and dried herbs from his garden. Shiro savored every bit of it, smiling as he listened to the friendly talk between the slaves. Grimmjow had even let a few of them go visiting, putting them together in a cell for a while. Romances between the slaves were rare, but it did happen sometimes.

Then, to his surprise, there was dessert. Shiro watched with wide eyes as Grimmjow gave them bowls of stewed apple. He tried his and to his surprise it was filled with cream, nuts and cinnamon. It was sweetened with honey, and he knew this treat would be a bit expensive in the dead of winter. That made him feel a bit uneasy. If Grimmjow was using funds from the whorehouse accounts, he would have to make his targets or Aizen would visit a very special punishment on him.

"Do not worry. Aizen gives him a small budget for midwinter feast." Nel said and Shiro blinked, blushing. Why was he always so transparent to her? "It's too much of a tradition for even him to disregard." She said, amused.

"I guess even that bastard ain't that hard hearted. Hey, do elves celebrate midwinter?" He asked and Nel laughed, a soft, rippling sound.

"No, but we celebrate the solstice. And our celebrations are closer to what you would see on the streets of the city or in the noble villas… we would have a great fire and sing and dance. Then there would be a great feast of roasted deer." Shiro nodded to himself. That did sound a lot like midwinter at his family's home. "Before the evening there would be snow games, sledding and making snow sculptures. If there was a lake there might be skating."

"Nice." Shiro said approvingly. He knew city dwellers and nobles both did that sort of thing in midwinter. Some slaves did too, the ones who were trusted enough to be out of their shackles. The house slaves, laundresses and tavern help would all be enjoying the day outside, if they had enough clothing for the cold. "Too bad we can't do that." Grimmjow couldn't afford to place that much trust in them. If a tavern girl went missing, a replacement would cost a copper. They were a hell of a lot more expensive and many of them were desperate to escape.

"Just enjoy what we have. I have so much yarn!" Nel said happily and Shiro laughed. Then his laughter turned into a moment of pure happiness as Grimmjow came to collect the bowls. Soon, the overseer would take him out of his cell and they could spend the night together. Just this once, they could even sleep together all night. Aizen had a huge celebration at his manor, there was less than no chance he would come bother Grimmjow tomorrow.

For now, they could enjoy themselves.

* * *

"I'm sorry Shiro-chan." Shiro looked up at that soft voice, caught completely by surprise. Then he stiffened in fear. Gin was at the door to his cell, looking miserable. And Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen. "Aizen wants you. Don' make me hurt you." Gin said and Shiro swallowed before coming to the front of his cell. He tried to think of anything he'd done wrong and came up empty.

It had been a month since midwinter feast and business had picked back up. Shiro was edging up a bit, becoming more popular. He still wasn't on Nel's level but the customers liked him. Of course, as Grimmjow had said, no one was entirely safe from Aizen's 'parties'. Shiro had a bad feeling he knew where this was going but there wasn't much he could do about it. He walked in front of Gin, occasionally glancing at the other man. His body language was completely defeated and Shiro felt a chill. Gin had happily whipped and broken Grimm's arm. What would make him act like this?

Gin led him to one of the larger entertainment rooms and Shiro was glad that at least Grimmjow wasn't being punished. He was in the room, though, kneeling in front of Aizen and a strange man Shiro had never seen before. He was nearly as pale as Shiro himself, but his hair was black and his eyes were a brilliant green.

"So? Will he suit you, Ulquiorra?" Aizen asked and the stranger looked him over slowly. Shiro felt a chill at the cold, empty gaze.

"White as a bone. He will do perfectly." He said, his voice as emotionless as his gaze. Shiro swallowed, wondering what this man wanted him for. Then Grimmjow spoke, his voice hoarse.

"Aizen, please. He's getting more popular, he could be a top earner. Don't ruin him like this." He appealed to his master and Shiro stiffened slightly, glancing at Gin. The fox faced man avoided his gaze, looking at the floor.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Grimmjow. If he's strong he'll survive. Unless you're offering to take his place?" He asked and Grimmjow bit his lip, fangs tugging at the skin before he looked down. Aizen smiled, satisfied. "I thought not."

"I would refuse him in any case. He would not react in an amusing fashion." Ulquiorra said and Grimmjow lifted his head with a feral snarl. The sound cut off abruptly as Aizen gestured at him and he looked down again, his body tense.

"Ya sure Aizen? I been with him, he's really good – " Gin said but he cut off with a visible shudder as Aizen looked at him, temper in his eyes. Shiro remembered what Grimm had said about Aizen's anger causing Gin pain.

"Enough. Ulquiorra?" Aizen said and the pale man nodded, passing something over before looking at him. Shiro stiffened as he gestured and a strange man stepped out from behind a curtain. He hadn't even noticed the man, he was so still. Who the hell hid behind a curtain?

"Bring him." Ulquiorra ordered and the stranger gripped his arm, pulling him along as the pale man started out. Shiro shivered at how clammy his skin felt and frowned, looking up into his face. He had pale blue eyes and fine, almost white hair. But there was something strange about him, something Shiro couldn't place.

As they stepped outside Shiro saw an opportunity to escape and he abruptly decided to take it. If he escaped now the blame would fall on Ulquiorra, not Grimmjow, and if he got to Ichigo he could see about buying the blue man. So he lashed out with all his strength, hitting the stranger on the back of the knee and hitting his hand in just the right way to break his grip –

The knee bent the way it was supposed to but the stranger's grip did not budge in the least. There was no sound of pain, not even the slightest flicker in his face as the man lifted him almost off his feet. Shiro gasped as the hand on his arm squeezed, delivering crushing pressure. There was going to be a bruise there. What was this man?

He was shoved into the waiting carriage and there was a click as the doors locked. Shiro watched the man warily as he took a seat. That kick to his knee must have hurt, would the bastard be harboring a grudge? But he seemed completely uninterested in the pale slave and Shiro frowned, studying him. There was something seriously _off_ about this man but he was having trouble pinpointing it…

Then it came to him and he edged as far away as he could, his eyes widening. Those blue eyes weren't blinking. The chest wasn't lifting. The cold skin, the clamminess… and now that he was in confined quarters with him, there was a chemical odor. This man was _dead._

"Zombie." Shiro muttered to himself. As far as the undead went, this was a pretty good piece of work. You could hardly tell he was dead, he'd been preserved so well. It was still creepy and now he knew what Ulquiorra specialized in. _Necromancer._ Shiro bit his lip. A lot of necromancers were extremely creepy, which was what you'd expect of people who played with dead bodies all day. But everyone had needs, so maybe Ulquiorra just wanted a fuck? But his mind kept going back to Grimmjow and Gin. They'd acted like he was being sent to his death…

Trying to stay calm, Shiro closed his eyes. The carriage ride took a while but eventually they stopped moving. He couldn't see anything – there were no windows – but as the zombie dragged him out he got a good look at the place. It was a rather imposing mansion, surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The mansion was built out of dark stone, and there were ornamental gargoyles and demons in the corners. There were the remains of flower beds, dead and coated in snow. Shiro winced a bit at the chill but he didn't have to endure it for long. The zombie pulled him towards the home and he didn't resist. Getting that hand off him would have required slicing it off, and he didn't have a weapon.

Things only got worse when he was inside. The place was chilly, although warmer than the winter air. But the servant girl who took Ulquiorra's coat was another zombie. Shiro shivered at her empty gaze and wondered how she'd died. She'd been very young. Then Ulquiorra started off, the zombie pulling him along behind. They passed several other servants, doing various things, but none of them were alive.

"Is everyone dead in this place?" Shiro mumbled to himself, feeling sick and cold as he struggled to keep back his fear. This house of the dead was terrifying.

"You and I are the only living things here." Ulquiorra said and Shiro honestly wished he hadn't confirmed that. This was creepy as hell. "Come." He continued walking and Shiro had no choice but to follow.

The room Ulquiorra brought him too was well appointed, in a dark sort of way. The dark grey stones were broken with a few abstract paintings, patterns of black, white and brilliant red. There was a small black table in the corner of the room, hosting a white vase with a single scarlet rose. There was a couch on the right side of the room, pure white with black accents. In the centre of the room was a large, four poster bed. It sports black silk blankets and shackles fixed to every post. In and of itself, that didn't bother Shiro too much. Grimmjow had a few rooms set up like this, for the clients who were into bondage.

What bothered him was the other entrance to the room. It was on the left side of the room, another gate of black iron. He could see a bit of straw behind it and hear something shuffling. Shiro gagged a little at the smell, reaching up to put a hand over his face. Something smelled bad in here, very bad, and his stomach churned as he thought of what it might be.

"Now, the bed." Shiro tried to resist as the zombie pulled him to the bed. All he did was delay things a bit, when he made the undead change his grip a few times to get the shackles on. Scowling, he looked at Ulquiorra. To his surprise, the pale man was sitting on the couch. "I prefer to watch." He said with a small smile and Shiro stiffened, glancing towards the gate. What would the pale man have him fuck with? An animal of some sort? That might explain the straw –

The gate opened and Shiro felt a moment of absolute horror as the creature inside shuffled out. It wasn't an animal and he wished it was. He would have preferred a dog, a tiger, anything to this… _thing._ It had started out as a human, but then it had died and been reanimated. But unlike the zombies he'd seen so far, this one was _rotten._ The nose was half gone, a chunk of flesh from the cheek was missing, revealing teeth… big brown eyes were strangely well preserved, staring out from sockets that lacked any real flesh. More bits and pieces of the body were missing and Shiro could see a few worms, squirming away in their fetid home. The thing was naked and his gaze dropped as his mind began descending into gibbering terror.

_No. That ain't possible. A zombie can't do that._ He thought to himself but saw, with more horror, that he was wrong. The penis was stirring, coming to an upright position but – _Oh god it's rotten down there too!_ Shiro struggled frantically against his bonds, ignoring the way the fur lined cuffs chafed at his skin. The zombie was reaching for him. _No!_

Before it even touched him, he screamed.

* * *

Shiro huddled into a ball, trying desperately to retreat from the world.

_Oh my god, the smell!_

_Shut up Starrk. We need to clean him up, maybe that will snap him out of this._

_Kitten, his hair…_

_I know. Starrk, get the scissors. Nel, help me carry him._

Shiro whimpered and struck out mindlessly, trying to drive away the hands touching him. A hand caught his and a familiar voice whispered soothing things in his ear, but it only made him whimper in pain and fear.

_Shit this is bad, he can't even recognize us. Shiro, shh, we're just cleaning you. Shh._

_It's no good kitten. He won't awaken until the dirt and stink is gone, and he has internal tearing. You and Starrk should hold him while I scrub him._

_His hair first. Starrk, get his wrists._

Shiro gasped as a hand gripped his hair and something else held his wrists. No! He was held down again. He kicked desperately but only succeeded in splashing water. Water? Then his head was suddenly free.

_You do realize that my sense of smell is about a hundred times better than yours, Grimmjow?_

_Sucks to be you. Shit… let's start with the internal shit. I'll get his legs, you get his wrists. He's going to fight us._

Shiro cried out as he was restrained again, then whimpered as something began violating him again. But this was something warm and alive, not cold and clammy and _dead_. He blinked, starting to understand that he was somewhere new, somewhere different.

_Urgh, disgusting!_

_Shut. Up! Nel, is he going to get an infection?_

_Almost certainly. I will heal him as best I can and he is young and strong. He will probably survive._

_We need to drain the water. Come on Shiro, out of the tub…_

It was the prick of claws that finally got through. Shiro blinked, looking around and finally realizing that he was back at the whorehouse. Right now they were down in the torture chambers, which were also used for bathing. There was a fireplace there, meant to heat hot irons but good for heating water, and a drain in the floor. It was meant for blood but it did quite well for used bathwater. Right now Starrk and Nel were emptying a tub of soiled water as Grimmjow held him.

"Grimm?" Shiro asked, his voice high and fragile. He'd never heard himself sound like that before. There was a soft croon in his ear and Shiro shuddered, burying his face against his lover's chest. "Grimm… he…"

"I know." Was all Grimmjow said and Shiro broke down and sobbed. He let the hot tears fall, let them soak the overseer's chest, and didn't think less of himself. Who could endure such a thing and not cry out their anguish? "Shhh. Shhh. They've filled up the tub again. We need to make you clean." Grimmjow said gently and Shiro shuddered.

"I'm never gonna be clean again." He said with a choking, gasping sob. Grimmjow kissed his head and Shiro realized his long hair was gone. Little curls of white fell wildly around his face, freed from the weight of their earlier length. He looked up to meet blue eyes and saw pain and understanding in the cerulean depths.

"You will be Shiro. It might take a while, but you will be." The big man promised and Shiro sniffled as he stepped back into the tub. The hot water felt good on his skin, and the brushes and sponges wielded by Nel and Starrk felt better. He wished they could strip it all away, take even the memories from him. But they never could.

No matter what Grimmjow said, he would always be soiled by this.


	9. Desperate Measures

For Shiro, the next few weeks were a haze of pain and misery.

It didn't take long for the infection to set in. Grimmjow had plenty of experience with slaves in this condition and he didn't even try to put Shiro back into his cell. Instead he took the pale slave to his room, putting him in his own bed. That roused Shiro briefly, long enough to register that something was wrong.

"I can't sleep with you." He protested weakly from his spot on the bed. Grimmjow just snorted, piling the covers over him and adding more. They were stained and threadbare but they added warmth to his shivering body.

"I can hardly put you with the other slaves. It's too damned cold in there and you'd wake them with your nightmares." He said gruffly and Shiro wanted to protest that he hadn't had a nightmare yet. But he didn't, because he knew the overseer was right. The nightmares would be coming and his fever would only make them worse. So he fell back in exhaustion and let Grimmjow do what he wanted. A cup of something bitter and herbal was pushed into his hand and Shiro drank it, lips curling at the taste. Then Grimmjow took the cup before settling in beside him, warming the pale slave with his body heat.

That was the routine for the next few weeks. Shiro fell into a deep fever, struggling with dreams and nightmares as Nel offered his body healing and Grimmjow tended to him. The blue man had his duties but every free moment was spent with Shiro, soothing him out of painful dreams, cleaning him and helping him use the chamber pot.

Shiro was only vaguely aware most of the time. He registered Grimmjow and Nel as comforting presences but his mind was so cloudy that he could hardly understand what was happening to him. Yet some things stuck with him, and one conversation managed to lodge itself into his fever ridden brain.

_I couldn't protect him. Why am I always so helpless?_ The bitter pain in Grimmjow's voice was painful to hear and Shiro whimpered a little, digging deeper into his nest of blankets. _What good is this power if I can't use it?_ _Damn it!_ There was a sound of something breaking. A glass? Nel's voice murmuring soothing words. _I must be such a disappointment to you._ Grimmjow's voice was soft and sad now and Shiro wrinkled his nose. A disappointment to Nel? He couldn't make sense of that.

_Kitten? You… know?_ Nel sounded strange. Fragile, shocked. There was a rumbling chuckle from the overseer and Shiro blinked his eyes, lifting his head as the voices became clearer.

"I always knew." Grimmjow had a hand in Nel's hair and as Shiro watched through fever hazed eyes, he gently tugged on the green strands. "I remembered your hair… mama."

"Kitten." Nel sobbed and flung her arms around the big man. "My little kitten…" Now it was Grimmjow's turn to whisper soothing things but Shiro couldn't follow them. He slumped back into his blankets, closing his eyes as the fever dragged him down again. But he knew, and would remember.

Grimmjow was Nel's little kitten.

* * *

Recovery was painfully slow, but it did happen.

Physical recovery at least. The shattering impact of what had been done to him still reverberated through Shiro's psyche, and would for a very long time. One thing that helped was that what Ulquiorra had done was so utterly _alien_ to his experiences at the whorehouse that Shiro was able to put it in a separate category. He still felt disgusting, sickeningly used and violated, but he managed to accept comfort and touches from Grimmjow. Still…

"Grimm… do we have to…?" Shiro asked, although he knew the answer. It had been almost two weeks. His fever had broken two days ago but he was still in Grimmjow's rooms, riding out the too frequent nightmares and getting back his strength. His body felt weak and tired, a normal consequence of being flat on his back for so long.

"We do." Grimmjow said gently, running his thumb along Shiro's jawbone. He shivered a little at the light prick of talons but leaned into the feeling. That was comforting, a reminder of the person he was with. "Aizen doesn't expect you to recover quickly. That's why he charges Ulquiorra so much. But I can't give you much longer or he'll expect me to get rid of you as broken." The big man said softly and Shiro swallowed before nodding.

"Alright." Shiro whispered before closing his eyes. Grimmjow's hands began to explore him and he concentrated on how warm they were, how alive. The memories tried to rise up but he ruthlessly pushed him down. This was Grimm and he was safe.

"I love you Shiro." Grimm's voice whispered in his ear and Shiro felt himself relax, felt the pain recede. "I wish I could have taken this for you." The grief in his tone was painful to hear and Shiro opened his eyes, meeting pain filled blue.

"Don' worry, I know ya couldn't." He whispered, remembering. Aizen's question about taking his place had been a taunt, not a serious offer. Ulquiorra wouldn't have taken Grimm because… "You've… been through this?" He hadn't asked but he knew it had to be true. Grimmjow hesitated a moment before kissing him, slow and deep. Shiro returned the affection, savoring the taste of the blue man.

"Three times." He said quietly and Shiro's eyes widened at that bit of information. Three? And Grimmjow had survived it? "So I know you'll get better Shiro. This kind of thing can't break you unless you let it."

"I'll make it for you Grimm." Shiro whispered before sliding a hand behind Grimm's head and pulling him close for another kiss. He dared to explore the other man's mouth, trying not to let memories intrude. Memories of a maggot filled – _No!_ Shiro broke off the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide, his breathing too fast and shallow.

"Shhh, shh. It's me. I'm here." Shiro gradually relaxed as Grimmjow coaxed him through the momentary panic attack. "You can do this Shiro. It will get easier after you've done it a few times." The overseer sounded like he was coaxing a skittish horse and Shiro managed a weak chuckle. "Hmm?"

"Nothin'. Just a thought." He said before snuggling his face against Grimmjow's skin, breathing in his scent. That helped. He smelled like musk and warm earth, a welcome scent. "Mmm."

It took a while, but Grimmjow managed to gently ease him into their lovemaking. Shiro did everything he could to help, focusing on long blue hair and beautiful blue eyes, the concern and tenderness there. He arched slightly when Grimmjow finally went inside him, moaning softly at the pleasant burn.

"Nnn, so big…" Shiro panted, lightly clawing at Grimmjow's back, wordless urging him on. "Sh-shit!" He gasped as his lover chuckled, sliding out of him before going back inside, hitting him in the most pleasurable spots. It felt beautiful, the man he cared about making love to him, nothing like – _no don't think of that never think of that_ – and Shiro whined deep in his throat as Grimmjow reached between them and captured his erection in his human hand. That hot fist teased his already overheated flesh, pumping him in time with every thrust. Then Grimmjow kissed him, deep and full, delving into his mouth. "Yes…" He moaned the word into the blue man's mouth, feeling the deep, passionate strokes in his body, the light teasing of claws and the hot fist around his erection. The combination of sensations were driving him to the brink, reminding him of why he loved this.

But Shiro held on, tightening his body expertly around Grimmjow's cock as he moved fluidly, meeting every thrust with practiced skill. He knew every one of Grimm's pleasure points and he used the knowledge now, biting down right beneath one furry ear. Grimmjow gasped in surprise and pleasure and his thrusts suddenly became erratic. Shiro could feel how close he was, the intense need and desire coiling in his body.

"Cum for me Grimm. I wanta see your face." Shiro whispered in his ear and Grimmjow stiffened for a moment before arching with a muffled groan. Shiro felt the hot pulses of his cock and watched his face raptly, seeing the way his brow wrinkled and his lips drew back in a half-snarl as the overseer found his moment of pleasure. It was delicious, amazing to watch and Shiro gasped as Grimmjow pumped him, then gave a lilting cry as he found his own release. The intense orgasm rocked his world and Shiro felt it as Grimmjow milked him for every drop he had.

The moment couldn't last and Shiro slumped back as it passed, utterly exhausted. Warm hands traced his body and Shiro smiled tiredly as Grimmjow crooned something in his ears. Then he yawned as he felt a rag being run over the taunt planes of his abdomen, cleaning off his spilled seed. Feeling warm, content and safe, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Grimmjow's smell was everywhere and it was soothing.

Perhaps, if he was lucky, he wouldn't dream.

* * *

_Shiro, wake up!_

A big, beautiful bed with fur lined shackles, a vase of flowers that had fallen over and shattered in his struggles…

_Shiro!_

His face against the bed, his hair sliding on those silk covers… hair that had beautiful and pristine when he'd arrived, but now it was full of vile, putrid liquid. It stank, the smell was smothering him…

_Wake up! It's not real, you're safe, wake up…_

Something holding him down he had to fight, get away, escape nonono…

_Shiro-hana!_

…What?

* * *

"Ichi?" Shiro blinked, really returning to consciousness. His mind felt full of cobwebs and for one crazy moment he thought he was home. Only Ichigo called him by that silly nickname… but then he felt the claws on his skin, felt the strong hands pinning his wrists over his head. "Grimm?" He said, dazed and confused. He had told Grimmjow about that nickname but the big man had never used it. Grimm let out a relieved sigh before letting go of his wrists.

"You were having a nightmare, a bad one." He said quietly and Shiro swallowed, looking away. He'd had so many nightmares. He was disturbing Grimmjow's sleep all the time and he knew it was taking a toll on the overseer although he never complained. "Better now?"

"Y-yeah." Shiro said quietly before snuggling up and burying his face against Grimmjow's side for a moment. He just wanted to smell him, take in that reassuring scent. "…Grimm?" He asked as he suddenly remembered. It was strange, maybe it had just been the fever, but he wondered. "Can I ask ya something?"

"Of course." Grimmjow rumbled and Shiro looked up, meeting bright blue eyes.

"Is Nel your mama?" He asked and saw a look of utter shock on the overseer's face. Blue eyes looked stricken and Shiro wondered why. "Grimm?"

"Shit, you heard." Grimmjow sounded scared and Shiro blinked, looking at him questioningly. "Shiro. Never mention that again, ever." He said urgently and Shiro frowned. Why was he so worried…? "If Aizen ever finds out… shit. The one thing I've never done is incest and I want to keep it that way." He said grimly and the pale slave winced.

"Oh." That made horrible sense. After what Ulquiorra had done to him Shiro had no doubt at all that Aizen would enjoy making Grimmjow have sex with his own mother. "I won't say anything." He assured the blue man, who relaxed a little. "Um… did she tell you about your pop?" He'd passed out before they'd gotten to that part but he was dying to know. Grimmjow was a half-elf, but what else was he? The overseer sighed before smiling. It wasn't a happy smile, though.

"Nel says that my father was the avatar of a god." He said softly and Shiro's eyes widened. He knew about such things but they were even rarer than half-celestials. "One of the old gods, the ones the elves don't worship anymore. It's forbidden to even go near their temples but mama was young and foolish. She got caught out in a blizzard and she took the only shelter she could find. My papa, he almost killed her. But she interested him and he made an avatar to be with her. After that, they met in secret and they fell in love. The avatar's name was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

"Oh." Shiro blinked at that information before speaking tentatively. "If – if your papa's a god, then why…?" Why was Grimmjow still here? Why hadn't the god come for them? Grimmjow's laugh was tired and sad.

"An avatar… apparently, the old nature gods have rules. They were very primitive, you understand, not really good and not really evil. They follow rules similar to demon princes… if an avatar falls in battle the god can't make another for a thousand years." Grimmjow's eyes were shaded with pain and Shiro cuddled him, trying to give him comfort. "I won't see my father for over nine hundred years. Shit… if I'm still a slave then, well, I won't be. I won't live that long." He said matter of factly. "I don't believe in giving up but there are limits." He said darkly and Shiro swallowed before nodding. He understood what Grimmjow meant. Nine hundred years of this? He would go insane.

"I'm sorry." Shiro said softly and Grimmjow just shrugged, resigned. "So sleeping with an avatar is taboo?" Nel had said she'd broken a taboo. This had to be it. Grimmjow nodded.

"Interacting with them in any way is outlawed. The old gods were abandoned a long time ago, in favor of the more civilized elven pantheon. They don't like to remember the gods that are all about blood in the snow and claws in the dark." Grimmjow sounded amused and Shiro gave him a curious look. "That's how Nel put it. She sounded pretty sarcastic."

"Heh." Shiro managed a smile before yawning. He was so tired. The nightmares were not restful at all. "I'm gonna try to get back t' sleep." He said sleepily and Grimmjow nodded before brushing a kiss across his forehead.

"I'll be here." He said quietly and that was very comforting to the exhausted half-demon. Shiro let himself drift off a second time and hoped for the same thing.

No dreams.

* * *

"Grimm, wake up." Grimmjow opened his eyes, completely shocked by the voice and the hand on his shoulder. "I gotta talk t'you."

"Gin?" Grimmjow pushed himself up, completely unconcerned about his nakedness. Gin had seen him in that state a thousand times and they knew every inch of each other's bodies. "Aizen, is he…?" Grimmjow felt his stomach clench and quickly ran through anything he might have done wrong. But he honestly couldn't think of anything. It was too soon after the last punishment for Aizen to fault him on his earnings and Shiro was working again. Not very much, but that was expected. Aizen made Ulquiorra pay a lot to play with his slaves, which made up for the reduced earnings.

"No, Aizen ain't here." Gin said and that gave him a momentary relief. But it didn't last for long. Gin looked massively depressed. "I gotta… gotta warn ya." He almost choked the words out and Grimmjow bit his lip, tugging on the skin with one fang. This was bad. Gin couldn't go against a direct order but he could sometimes act slightly against Aizen's interests. It caused him pain, though. "I heard him talkin' t' Ulquiorra. He wants t' buy Shiro-chan." That made Grimmjow freeze.

"Alive or dead?" He heard himself say in a shockingly calm voice. It was a pertinent question. After his third time as Ulquiorra's chew toy, the bastard had asked Aizen if he could buy him as a corpse. Aizen had refused because he was too unique and valuable to waste that way, but Shiro was just a powerless half-demon. He was pretty but nothing more and Aizen wouldn't hesitate to sell his dead body. Gin looked even more miserable.

"Alive at first but…" He said and Grimmjow swallowed before nodding. Being sold dead was revolting, dehumanizing, but what Ulquiorra would do to Shiro before killing him was worse. Grimmjow blinked and took a deep breath, focusing on Gin.

"Thank you for telling me this." Their eyes met in a moment of perfect understanding and Grimmjow saw that Gin knew. He knew how much Shiro meant to him and knew the lengths he would go to protect him. That… wasn't good. Gin didn't have to volunteer information but if Aizen ever suspected, he'd get it out of him quickly. But there was nothing either of them could do. Gin couldn't erase the knowledge from his mind, no matter how much he might like to.

"S'nothin'. Best friends forever, remember?" Gin said lightly and Grimmjow managed to smile before hugging him. It had been a long, long time since they'd made that declaration. Back when they'd just been kids, surviving as best they could. Gin returned the hug before pulling away. "I gotta go before Aizen wakes up."

"Right." Grimmjow said and Gin vanished in that quick way he had. He went to the wardrobe and quickly sorted through his clothing, pulling on something without really looking at it. It wasn't like he had much selection anyway. He had three sets of clothing, just like all the slaves. His were a bit less revealing but that was the only difference.

After he dressed he slowly and deliberately made himself some tea and sat down with it to think. If he was going to outwit Aizen, he needed to use his entire brain. Even then the odds of success were poor but he had to try. So Grimmjow turned the thing over in his mind, analyzing the situation.

There were three possibilities. Gin's information could be a trap. If Aizen had guessed about his attachment to Shiro, he could have sent Gin to test him. Aizen could order him to use all of his acting ability and Gin was a champion liar. If that was the case he was being set up for punishment.

The second possibility was that it was just the truth. In that case, Shiro was going to be sent to a fate worse than death. Grimmjow glared into his tea. He'd gotten very few things he wanted in life but he was not going to let Aizen do this. It just was not happening.

The last possibility was the worst. It could be a trap but also the truth. Grimmjow took a deep drink of his tea as he considered the possibility. It would be so like Aizen to let Gin overhear something and test them both. If so, he and Gin were both going to end up punished. Grimmjow was sure Gin had considered that but Ulquiorra absolutely revolted him. He'd be willing to risk Aizen's anger to save Shiro and do Grimmjow a good turn at the same time.

"Shit." Grimmjow sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He didn't which scenario was correct but he knew one thing. In two of them, Shiro died horribly. Those were odds he just couldn't take. He had to act. Finishing his tea he went to get Shiro.

The white slave was sleeping in his cot. The nightmares had finally eased enough that he could be put back with the other slaves and Grimmjow paused a moment, just looking at him. He was nearly hidden beneath the blankets, only a bit of close cropped hair peeking out. He missed Shiro's long hair but the short, spiky arrangement he was sporting now was very cute. Quietly unlocking the cage he stepped inside before gently shaking the pale slaves' shoulder.

"Nnn… Grimm?" Shiro yawned before blinking, puzzlement in his inverted eyes. "'S early, I wanta sleep." He said groggily but Grimmjow shook his head.

"You can sleep later. We need to talk." Although once they were done this talk Grimmjow doubted that Shiro would be getting any sleep. The pale slave frowned but pushed himself up. He was wearing a motley assortment of warm, patched clothing but he still shivered a little as the cold air hit him. Grimmjow took him back to his rooms. He couldn't talk about this in front of the other slaves. He was going to do his best to deceive them all. "Would you like some tea?"

"I'd like you t' tell me what's going on. You're acting tense as hell." Shiro said tartly and Grimmjow couldn't help but smile. He started to get the tea but then thought better of it and poured Shiro a shot of alcohol instead. "Okay, what's going on? You're starting to scare me now." The pale slave said it lightly but Grimmjow could see the building fear under the words. It was pretty obvious that something was badly wrong.

"Drink that first." He ordered and Shiro frowned before knocking back the booze and shuddering. "Shiro… Gin came by to warn me. Someone's asking about buying you." He said softly and was surprised as a brilliant smile lit the other slaves face.

"Ichigo!" He said happily and Grimmjow bit his lip, looking down. He desperately wished, with all his heart, that that was the truth. "When will I be going Grimm? When will I go home?" He asked hopefully and Grimmjow laughed. It was jagged and bitter, filled with pain and hate.

"Shiro, Gin came to _warn_ me." He said as gently as he could and saw those beautiful eyes go wide. He could tell that if Shiro could go any paler, he would. "It's not Ichigo." He couldn't bear to say the words but he didn't have to. Shiro was starting to tremble, his hands going tight on the shot glass.

"No." He whispered, moisture beginning to build in his eyes. Grimmjow couldn't stand it and stood, going to his side to gather the pale slave into his arms. "No Grimm, no, you can't… please… kill me Grimm." Shiro begged and Grimmjow felt his heart breaking at that fearful, frantic tone. "Kill me, don't let him have me, please, please…" Tears began to fall and Grimmjow crooned softly, rocking the pale man in his arms.

"I'm not going to kill you and he's not going to have you. Here's the plan." He said comfortingly and Shiro sniffled, looking at him helplessly. "I'm putting you with Aaroniero tonight, if he shows up." That made Shiro frown in confusion. Aaroniero wasn't a good customer, although he was far from the worst. Not one of Aizen's pets, he often skirted the edge of being banned. But he hadn't killed any of the whores or broken any bones and Grimmjow couldn't afford to be too picky. He just charged the man extra for taking his slaves roughly and leaving plenty of bruises. "I want you to provoke him a little, make sure he rides you hard." That wouldn't be difficult. The whores learned how to diffuse violent customers, doing the opposite was quite a bit easier. "Then I'm going to get Nel to help me. We'll make it look like you've had a relapse. We'll fake your death and tell Aizen we cremated the body." That was the weakest point in the story. Normally Grimmjow was supposed to sell the bodies, just like he sold everything. Young, fresh bodies went for a premium. "I'll make up some shit about the disease maybe being infectious." Any infectious bodies were immediately incinerated. "And you'll take my stash of money, get out of here and go home." He said softly as Shiro bit his lip.

"But what about you?" The pale slave asked and Grimmjow chuckled before gently cupping his cheek, stroking his skin with one clawed thumb. He paused to admire Shiro's beauty for a moment and marvel at the love that had entered his life. He felt so strongly for his lover. He would do anything to see him safe.

"There is no hope for me. There never was." He said and saw more tears, of pain this time, building in Shiro's beautiful eyes. "But there's still hope for you and I won't let that bastard take it away." Shiro had been free once. He had a family, people who cared about him, a life to go back to. He wasn't going to die here if Grimmjow had anything to say about it.

"Grimm…" Warm arms clamped around him, hugging him so tightly that Grimmjow could actually feel the pressure. He returned the gesture, but more carefully. He loved Shiro and never wanted to hurt him. "Thank you." Shiro whispered and Grimmjow shook his head.

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when it's done." He advised. There were so many things that could go wrong and trying to trick Aizen was generally a move of desperation.

But he had no choice and these were desperate times.


	10. Freedom and Homecomings

Author's Note: Next chapter will be from Grimmjow's perspective and it's going to seriously suck. So just enjoy the sweetness! :)

* * *

Grimmjow's plan went off perfectly, although there were some details he hadn't mentioned to Shiro.

Primary among them was the need for a body to incinerate. Grimmjow took care of that in a direct and brutal fashion, by finding a hapless victim to murder then sneaking the body back to the whorehouse. Shiro only found out about it after the deed was done and he wasn't too happy.

"Damnit Grimm! I know I gotta get out of here but you just killed someone, just like that?" He demanded, his voice a painful rasp. Nel's work on him had given him a fever and a sore throat, but nothing she couldn't undo quickly. Grimmjow just looked at him, his eyes cold as a northern winter.

"Yeah, I did." He said gruffly and Shiro looked away. "Don't be so horrified. I didn't just pick some poor bastard off the street. I caught the fucker knifing a whore instead of paying her." He said roughly and Shiro looked up, startled. "No one'll miss him."

"…Oh." Shiro said quietly. He still didn't like it but he could see Grimmjow's point. They needed a body so he'd found someone he felt didn't deserve to be breathing. "Grimm…" Shiro leaned over to hug the overseer, burying his face in soft blue hair. "I love you." _Despite the things you have to do._ Grimmjow's arms went around him, tightening for a moment and Shiro thought he understood.

"I love you too. Now, it's time for you to get dressed." He said quietly and Shiro nodded, pulling himself out of bed with a wince. He had a foul headache, probably from the unnatural fever. "I'll get Nel." Shiro nodded again as Grimmjow left the room and he began pulling on his clothing. It was nothing like the things the slaves wore. Instead of a revealing loincloth or patched and darned winter clothing, this was heavy, serviceable pants with an ugly but new shirt and a thick, enveloping cloak.

Soon Nel joined them, her face pinched with worry as she worked to remove the fever she'd placed on him. Shiro winced as fresh pain went through his head. Nel's magic was abusing his body but he didn't complain. It was nothing compared to what would happen if he didn't escape.

"Shiro, this is a very bad way to use my magic." She said quietly. "There is a chance your body could turn against itself, giving you a kind of disease. Over the next few weeks try to stay warm and eat well. Meat and eggs are best, vegetables and fruit are fine. Beans are acceptable but bread should be avoided, it can make this sort of thing worse." Shiro frowned and nodded. Although…

"I'm going on a river boat, Nel. I might not have much choice." He pointed out and Nel nodded with a small sigh. "I'll do my best." The ship might have chickens for eggs. "Unh?" Shiro blinked as Grimmjow pressed a purse in his hands. It was oddly large and Shiro curiously opened it. "Grimm! How th' hell?" It wasn't a fortune but it was more money than the blue slave should have had. "I could get a horse with this!" He said, amazed.

"No. A horse would make you more attractive to bandits and if your description goes around people would be sure to think you've stolen it. Stick with the plan." Grimmjow said gruffly and Shiro frowned before tucking the purse away. The plan was for him to buy passage to the next Kingdom on a river boat. He wasn't a born slave so as soon as he was out of this place his status as a slave would effectively vanish. Even born slaves often tried that and if they weren't particularly valuable like Grimmjow, they could manage it. It would add more time to his trip home but it was safer. If Grimm's ruse was found out and he was still in this kingdom, well, he was very easy to spot.

"How'd you get this much money?" Shiro asked, worried. "You haven't been stealing from Aizen, have you?" He could only imagine what would happen to Grimm if the archmage found out about something like that.

"Oh fuck no! He'd give me to Yammy for a week." Grimmjow said with a scowl and Shiro winced at the thought. "If I weren't so special, he'd just have me killed. But I'm too valuable to be gutted. No… it's a bit of a dodge. You know how the customers sometimes give you jewelry?" He asked and Shiro nodded, remembering the gold and onyx bracelet. "If it's below a gold in value Aizen doesn't require me to sell it. The really cheap things I let the boys and girls have, but if it's something worth a few silver I sell it on my own and keep the money." Shiro frowned as Grimmjow gave him a tight smile. "I mostly use it as a slush fund for building repairs. Anything I spend money on goes against my earnings. I can't just stick money into the accounts or Aizen would know, but if I pretend the buildings fine and pay for it with that Aizen can't tell the difference." He shrugged then. "I'm sure he knows what I'm doing but he doesn't care." Shiro nodded. That made sense, it was just more money for Aizen really. And the only one Grimm was stealing from was the slaves, who wouldn't really care about bits of cheap jewelry.

"Okay." Shiro took a deep breath before winding a scarf around his face. It was cold enough outside that it wouldn't seem strange and it would keep his face hidden. The boatmen would see him, of course, but they would be heading out of the kingdom. "I'll be back for you." He promised, his voice a little muffled by the scarf. Grimmjow just shook his head. "I will!" He wanted to give Grimmjow that, a tiny ray of hope. But the overseer just looked at him with dead eyes.

"Shiro." Warm arms were around him again and Grimmjow nuzzled his cheek, just above the scarf. "Don't waste your life trying to afford me. I know you're a noble but unless you have massive estates, you can't pay what Aizen will ask." He said gently and Shiro bit his lip. He knew that was probably true. Even if he sold his entire estate he thought it would only amount to two hundred golds. But maybe Ichigo would help, he was the real heir. Shiro only had a few smaller properties that had belonged to his mother. "I told you, there's no hope for me. Be safe." He said softly and Shiro hugged him, giving his lover a firm squeeze before letting go.

"Love you Grimm." He whispered and saw pain flash through those bright blue eyes. Then he turned and walked away.

There was nothing else he could do.

* * *

"Home." Shiro breathed the word as he walked through the woods, following the well-tended road. "Finally."

He'd been walking for almost two weeks. Mindful of Grimmjow's advice, he hadn't purchased a horse or anything that might make him look prosperous. He couldn't afford a weapon other than the butcher knife Grimm had given him, so looking too wealthy was a bad idea. If any bandits had spotted him they'd let him pass by. The worst things he'd encountered on the trip had been bad food and lice. He'd been mindful of Nel's advice and had tried to eat decently, but money had gotten short these past few days.

But he recognized the woods now. He was going to be home well before sundown and that speeded his steps. What he wouldn't give for a bath and a real bed… and he would finally see Ichigo again. That thought made him worry though. Was Ichigo alright? If something had happened to him…

Shoving that thought away Shiro just concentrated on the road. There was nothing he could do but get home and find out. Although worrying about Ichigo naturally turned to worrying about Grimmjow. If Aizen found out about his actions he would visit a monstrous punishment on the blue man.

Shiro took a deep breath and forced that thought away too, concentrating on the cold, crisp air and the sound of birdsong. There was the faintest hint of spring in the air, a few daring buds poking out from beneath the snow. He'd been gone almost a year. How would things have changed? Probably not much, the biggest change was within himself.

The walls of the keep suddenly loomed out of the trees and Shiro just stopped for a moment, looking at his ancestral home. The trees stopped abruptly quite a distance from the walls, so any invaders would be obvious to the defenders. The walls weren't meant to repel an army but they would do an excellent job on smaller raiding forces, which was all that other nobles could send against them without raising the King's ire. If an actual war broke out it couldn't hold, but if that happened they would retreat to the nearest town. City fortifications were better. Bandits could never break through and would never try. No one was that stupid.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro walked towards the grey stone. He would be very obvious and it was a little disconcerting, almost unreal, but he still felt a great joy. Home. He was finally home.

"What do you want?" Someone from the walls called down and Shiro grinned. Not the sort of greeting a noble usually got from his home guard, but he looked about as noble as a turd at the moment.

"It's Kurosaki Shiro and I want t' see my cousin." He called up and to his surprise there was derisive laughter.

"You liar! He's dead." That set Shiro back on his heels. Scowling, he yanked down his hooded cloak and glared up at the speaker. "Oh my god it's a ghost!" Now he sounded panicked and Shiro thought he recognized the voice.

"Ganju you useless bastard! Get down here and let me in, it's fucking freezing out here!" Shiro called up. Ganju was a penniless second cousin and not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but solid and dependable. He had a high place in the guards. There was a curse and a flurry of activity. Shiro just waited patiently for the gates to open. They did with a loud squeal of hinges. "And oil those things for fucks sake!" He complained as he walked through the open gate. Everyone was staring at him wide eyed. "What?"

"You're really alive?" Ganju seemed awed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Shiro scowled at him. "Where were you? What happened?"

"I was sold into slavery." He said shortly. He might as well tell them that much, they would find out anyway. But he wasn't going to tell them anything more. Ichigo would need to know everything but he'd rather his new expertise didn't get around. He'd never live it down. "Come on, take me to Ichi." He was impatient to see his brother and Ganju finally saluted before shouting to the other guards to get back to their posts. Then he led Shiro away. "Why'd you think I was dead anyway?" He asked, feeling a strange pain in his heart and head. Ichigo hadn't been coming. If he'd known that when he first got to the whorehouse, he'd probably have made Grimmjow kill him. All through his time there the prospect of being rescued had been his candle in the dark. If he'd known it was a false hope…

"Those bastards who murdered your escort… we caught them on the way back to the Kuchiki lands and Ichigo fought the leader personally. He said he'd killed you." Ganju said unhappily and Shiro blinked. That was… tremendously malicious. What had that cocksucker had against him and Ichi? But then, the feud between the clans was bitter. "Ichigo wasn't sure so he had Zangetsu search for you." That was Ichigo's mentor and a powerful wizard. Not archmage level, but powerful. "He couldn't find you even with a relic so we thought…"

"Ugh." Shiro muttered. He knew exactly why Zangetsu hadn't been able to find him. Grimmjow's magic filled the whorehouse and it obliterated most others. Grimmjow had mentioned once that unless he was the focus of the magic, Aizen didn't like to do complex workings around him. To a mage, cutting through his power was like wading through heavy water. Doable but annoying and from a distance it would obfuscate any scrying. "Well, at least I'll get to see the look on Ichi's face." That was going to be good. Ganju gave him a tentative smile and Shiro thought he was still wondering if he might be a ghost.

To Shiro's surprise, Ichigo was in his father's study. Ganju knocked politely.

"My lord? You have a visitor." He said and Shiro froze for a moment. When he'd left Ichigo's title had been young lord. Had something happened to Isshin? There was an irritated voice from behind the door.

"It can wait." He sounded grumpy and Shiro grinned, gripping Ganju's shoulder and pulling him away before opening the door and sending it crashing against the wall. Ichigo looked up from his papers, shocked and offended. But then his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as Shiro walked into the room.

"It fucking well can't." Shiro planted his hands on the papers, leaning in to glare at his King. "So I hear you gave me up for dead!" He snarled and Ichigo stared, brown eyes wide with shock. "You thought the Horse could be killed that easily? I'm ashamed of you Ichi! I was waiting for you this whole time!" He'd meant to tease Ichigo but he couldn't help a bit of the pain that made it into his voice. He'd been so sure Ichigo was coming for him, so sure the King would come for his Horse. "You're lucky I'm not dead or I'd be haunting you!" He managed to say that lightly though. It wasn't Ichigo's fault that everything had pointed to his death. Shiro could forgive him… he was just glad he hadn't known the truth.

"Sh-Sh-Shiro?" Ichigo stammered and Shiro snorted a laugh. His King was looking and sounding spectacularly stupid today. "H-H-How…?" He choked out and Shiro grinned wickedly.

"Well, I was taken and sold into slavery and – ooph!" He wasn't expecting Ichigo to practically vault over the desk and hug him. "Hey ow!" Shiro squirmed, gagging a little at the pressure. "Ichi, that hurts…!" He managed to say and Ichigo eased up his grip, hiding his face against his neck. Shiro hugged him back and blinked as he felt his cousin trembling violently. "Hey, it's okay, I'm fine." He said softly although he knew it was a bit of a lie. It would be years before he fully recovered from his trauma. But he would recover, Grimmjow was right about that.

"Shiro… Shiro…" Ichigo whispered his name again and again and Shiro remembered what he'd thought before, that he wasn't sure how Ichigo would get by without him. He could hear the pain and joy in his King's voice. "I've missed you so much." He whispered and Shiro gently patted his shoulder, holding him close.

"I missed you too Ichi." He glanced at the door and saw Ganju watching. Giving the man a scowl he jerked his head and his relative got the hint, giving him a quick grin and wave before shutting the door. "Ichi… we gotta send agents to a guy named Aizen Sosuke in Alundra. We need to buy a couple slaves from him." He said softly before swallowing. "They… they might be really expensive." He wanted to get Nel too, if he could. Grimmjow would want his mother. Ichigo let him go before looking at him in bewilderment.

"What? Shiro, what are you talking about?" He asked and Shiro sighed to himself. "You… did they help you escape?" He asked and Shiro nodded.

"Yeah. Ichi, sit down, I need to tell you what happened." It would hurt Ichigo cruelly, knowing what had happened to his cousin and best friend, but he had to tell him. He needed to know why Grimmjow was so important to him. "It started after I was sold…" He told the story but didn't dwell on the details. At first Ichigo was furious at Grimmjow, but Shiro quickly corrected him. And as the story went on righteous anger faded into horror and sickness. Shiro left plenty of things out – they didn't have all day – but he included, in a cold, clipped tone, what Ulquiorra had done. That was too important to leave out.

"Oh my god." Ichigo looked sickened and Shiro nodded, taking slow, deep breaths. It helped to cope with the memories. "Shiro I'm – I'm sorry." He said and Shiro could tell how useless it felt to him. He just shrugged and reached out to grip Ichigo's hands.

"Nothing you could've done." He said simply before continuing the story. After he'd explained what Grimmjow and Nel had done for him and how they were related to each other there was a steely look of determination in his cousins eyes. "Grimm said the last time someone asked for him Aizen tried to charge three hundred golds." He said and Ichigo winced. "I'll sell all my stuff, every bit of it. I have to get them out of there." Shiro said, determined. Nel would probably cost another hundred golds, maybe fifty at the least. Elves were expensive. Ichigo took a deep breath and squeezed his hands.

"We'll find out what he wants and make it work. I'll send out an agent tomorrow." He said quietly then sighed. "At least the dowry will help." That threw Shiro for a loop but then his eyes went wide as he understood.

"Dowry? You're getting married? Who are you marrying?" He asked and Ichigo grimaced a bit.

"She's… I've never met her." He admitted and that shocked Shiro. Isshin had wanted his son to marry for love. "Shiro, dad's dead." He said with quiet grief and Shiro stiffened, a bolt of pain shooting through him. Isshin Kurosaki had been his father too, really. "Ginrei Kuchiki is dead too. There was a pitched battle and they – they fought, personally." Ichigo swallowed before giving him a small smile. "He took your death really hard." He explained and Shiro winced. "Ginrei died on the field but dad lingered for a few days… he asked me to try to find peace with the Kuchiki clan."

"And they agreed?" Shiro said wonderingly. Ginrei had been the most recalcitrant, stubborn old goat they'd ever seen. His own son had been killed in the feud a long time ago, before Isshin was clan leader and he'd never let up since. Ichigo nodded.

"Byakuya, Ginrei's grandson, is the clan leader now. He says there's no point in continuing this feud and to seal the deal I'm marrying his sister, Rukia Kuchiki." Ichigo explained and Shiro frowned. He'd heard that name before.

"Ain't she adopted?" Not that that bothered him anymore. Noble blood was a ridiculous concept in general and after having his pride humbled at a whorehouse it was even moreso. "Doesn't she have a half-human kid?" He vaguely recalled there had been a huge scandal at the time. No one knew what Rukia's kid was, exactly. She'd never told anyone the identity of the father and the racial combination was so bizarre not even the wizards could figure it out. Ichigo looked a little pained.

"Yes. Part of the agreement is that if we don't produce an heir, her girl will be the heir to the Kurosaki clan." Ichigo said and Shiro's eyes went wide before he laughed, a high pitched cackle.

"Bet the elders love that!" He said merrily and Ichigo gave him an irritated look. "Get me my sword and some practice Ichi, you'll need me watching your back!"

"Oh shut up. It's not funny." He retorted and Shiro smiled. The smile faded, though, as he thought about the situation. Ichigo was right, it wasn't really funny. There might be assassination attempts over it. Non-humans were not held in high regard in general, except elves. And from what he'd heard the girl wasn't a half-elf.

"The Kuchiki clan's getting the better part of this deal." He observed and Ichigo shrugged with a sigh. "I can see why Byakuya asked for it." Some kind of blackmail was the only way he'd get his sister married off, with all the strikes against her. And Ichigo was an eminently eligible bachelor, young and strong and the head of a clan. It would be an excellent way to forge a bond between the clans, too. Supposing no one managed to screw it up.

"Yeah. Well, nevermind that. I'll send an agent off to Aizen starting tomorrow." Ichigo said and Shiro nodded. "And I'll see if Zangetsu can make a sending stone for him." That was an item that let the possessor send messages to the person with the matching stone. It would save them the whole tedious and expensive process of sending letters. Letters had to go through merchants so they sometimes got lost, and the merchants usually charged a lot if they were willing to take them at all. Magic was a much better way to send messages back and forth, although they could often be intercepted and decoded. Fortunately that didn't matter much for this.

"Thanks Ichi." Shiro said gratefully. "Now what's for supper? I'm starvin'." Not quite literally but rations had been getting a bit short on the last leg of his trip. Ichigo smiled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

"Roasted duck with crispy potatoes in gravy." He said and Shiro's mouth watered. It sounded delicious. "Also a pickled carrot and onion dish with cream sauce." That sounded great too. Shiro had to swallow a bit of drool.

"I can't wait." Shiro said, remembering all the years they'd had roasted duck. It was a sign spring was coming, when the waterfowl started arriving again. Spring was the time for duck and he couldn't wait.

Finally, at last, he was home.


End file.
